


Heart of a Heliotrope

by SweetHoney1085



Series: The Evolution of Terre D'Ange [1]
Category: Kushiel's Legacy - Jacqueline Carey
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-16 05:30:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 45,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3476246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetHoney1085/pseuds/SweetHoney1085
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Simonne, an adept of the Heliotrope, falls in love with her patron, she must defy conventions in order to uphold Elua's precept: Love as Thou Wilt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Duc

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing a fan fiction...and my first attempt at writing anything at all in years. So any reviews or feedback you can provide me with would be greatly appreciated. This is an ongoing work, and I will continue writing as long as anyone is interested in it...or until I run out of ideas.

ONE:  
I knelt at his feet, abeyante, with my head bowed and my hands clasped before me, ankles together.   
I didn’t need to ask him what he wanted, the terms of my assignation had been decided before I even walked into the room. As an adept of the Heliotrope House in the Court of the Night Blooming Flowers, I was to place this patron before all others, if only for this one night.  
“My lord is too kind to come and spend his time with me,” I murmured demurely. Duc Giles d’Imbert had been my patron before, and I do not lie when I say I was genuinely pleased to see him.   
“And you, Simonne nó Heliotrope, are a beautiful as always.”  
I blushed prettily at his compliment, to the roots of my chestnut hair which hung in waves around my shoulders, grazing the floor.   
Slowly, I stood, my pale mauve gown falling like water around my ankles, silk swishing gently. My feet were bare, and I walked slowly to him where he was seated on the bed, laying my right hand upon his cheek like a feather.  
“I have missed you far too much mesire,” I said, pouring my voice out like honey, warm and slick from the summer sun, “It has been overlong since I’ve had the pleasure of your company.”  
Duc d’Imbert reached his hand up to my own and covered it, turning his face inward to kiss my palm.  
“Official business is what keeps me from you, my love,” his lips tickling the inside of my hand.  
Using my left hand, I ruffled his hair affectionately. It was shorter than that of many a D’Angeline man, trimmed above his ears and the color of wheat at harvest.   
“The work of a courtier is never done, apparently,” I teased, “all fêtes, and dalliances I’m sure.”  
“Council meetings with the Queen, more like,” he said, turning his face from my palm, and looking me square in the eyes, “And I can’t think of a fête that would be more enjoyable than an evening in your company.”  
Again, I blushed, and again my pleasure was true. Even for a D’Angeline, d’Imbert was a fair sight to behold; his eyes the same green as the jade stones brought to our country from far off Chin, with his fair skin and hair that marked him as a Siovalese lord. His jawline was fine and full, his face nicely rounded. His lips were generous and made for smiling.   
At the young age of three and twenty, the Duc had already risen in stature within the court of our Queen Sidonne. By far my most frequent patron, I speak with forthrightness when I say that he is also one of my favorites. Of course, it is not proper to put one patron above another, especially in my house.  
“My lord flatters me too much.”  
He reached his hand around my waist, and pulled me close, “I flatter you not nearly enough, even if the things I say are true.”  
I inhaled sharply at his attentions, air hissing between my teeth. My blue eyes sparkled with unfeigned emotion, as his shone with lust.  
Thou, and No Other, that is the motto of my house. I was raised with the belief that Naamah basked in her love as if in the sun. Well and so, I have had need to pretend with my patrons on only the rarest of occasion.   
Though I’ve only been a practicing adept for two years, I have been trained by my house since infancy. My mother was an adept of Heliotrope, as was her mother before her. My father was a man I never knew, a chance meeting at The Longest Night seventeen years hence. Yes, I was begotten at those festivities, as were so many others. There is no shame in this parentage amongst Naamah’s servants, only pride to be conceived in a moment of genuine passion. My mother had visited the temple of Eisheth two moons prior to The Longest Night, praying to her for this very outcome. She told me that he was pleasing to the eyes, firm of body and yielding of heart, all the things an adept of our house prizes in a mate. She knew he would make a good sire for her child.   
The training for an adept of the Heliotrope house begins much the same as in any of the other great houses, we begin by acting as handmaidens to the older boys and girls, preparing them for their assignations, and helping them also to cleanse themselves in the aftermath of their love making. I became quite good at the styling of hair, and my services were frequently requested by adepts of both genders.   
Of course any child can manage a lover’s haste knot with little to no skill at all, it was more difficult to layer the hair in twists and turns, braids and knots, buns and curls, keeping a natural look all the while. This I learned to do from my mother. Calliope nó Heliotrope, who had fingers so nimble she would have been welcome in the House Eglantine, whose motto is To Create is to Live. They are the house of craftspeople, seamstresses and artists, they who trained the famed seamstress Favrielle nó Eglantine. My mother would have been suited fine to such a house, but her mother, my grandmother, couldn’t bear to have her apart.   
Once we have reached the age of ten, we have of course begun to study our trade in earnest. The texts Trois Milles Joies, the Ecstatica, the Journey of Naamah and the Log of Seven Hundred Kisses are all studied at length, until their practices become but a part of our very being.   
From the very start, we are taught tenderness and love. The love of Elua above all else, and of course to hold his precept Love As Thou Wilt above all things. But other skills we learned as well, how to coat our responses in honey, to make them more pleasing to the ear. How to hearten a bruised ego, how to gently rebuff a patron when their affections became too ardent. These were the trades in which we plied.   
Some abjured our house, calling us false lovers, saying we made a mockery of Elua’s precept. But none would denounce us openly, for we are all his children, after all.   
All of these things informed my very being, but none were in my head as I felt Giles d’Imbert’s hand tighten on my hip.  
“Kiss me,” he said, his voice thick with passion.  
I bent at the waist and my lips met his. He returned my kiss eagerly, crushing my mouth with his own. He moaned with pleasure, wrapping both arms around me and holding me close. His mouth tasted sweetly of wine. He rose up to his feet, standing a full head and shoulders taller than me. I lifted my chin, keeping my gaze modest and affectionate.   
The look he returned to me was pure love.   
In one quick motion, the Duc swept me off my feet, lying me back down onto the bed. The goose feathers from the coverlet pricked the back of my neck, but not enough to hurt.   
“My lord the Duc is in quite a fashion this evening,” I say playfully, as I raised one knee ever so slightly to grant him access between my legs.  
“It’s what happens when I’m busy at all these fêtes and dalliances…it makes me need you all the more when I’m once again in your sweet presence.”  
I twined my arms around his neck, feeling his breath hot against my skin. I wanted him, near enough as badly as he wanted me.  
His lips brushed against the tender flesh of my neck, and my breathing began to quicken. When his tongue began making circles, I felt my body begin to move against him.   
This was no act.   
A D’Angeline through and through, he took his time with me, enjoying himself to his fullest. I knew that this was what he desired, the Duc d’Imbert was generous with his attentions, and in truth he preferred to please than to have me practice my skills on him. Well and good, for I have no objections to being used so.   
“Stand up,” he bade me.  
I did as he wished, and he slipped my dress from my shoulders, pooling on the ground in a shimmering puddle.   
I stood before him now, nude. The Duc rose to his own feet, and held my hand above my head, turning me about so that I was facing away from him.  
“Your marque has grown since last I saw you,” he noted, not a trace of jealousy in his voice. And why should there be? Any man who visits the pleasure houses in the City of Elua knows he is not the only one to seek my favors.  
“Yes,” I replied, weighing my response.  
“Your Dowayne has kept you busy in my absence.”  
“If only all my patrons could be as handsome and kind as you are, my lord, then I would be a happy woman indeed.”  
A bright smile flashed across his face, never a doubt in his mind that I was being completely truthful. Sincerity, we were also taught.  
I used my fingers, nimble as my own mother’s, to unbutton his doublet. It was made of fine green velvet, with gold brocade and trim along the edges. He shrugged his way out of it, baring his muscular chest for me to see. Fine, blonde hairs curled gently at the center, and again in a small trail that led downward into his breeches.   
I loosened the belt that held them up, and then they fell to the floor, meeting with my abandoned dress.   
Hand in hand, we returned to the bed, him lowering his body slowly and deliberately onto mine.   
He bent his head and began to softly kiss my breasts, gently suckling upon them until my nipples grew to stiff peaks. I couldn’t help the noises that came from my throat, I didn’t want to.   
“My lord…!” I gasped.  
“Call me Giles,” he said, his voice muffled by my heaving bosom.   
It was not the first time he had made this request, but decorum dictated that an adept wait to be granted permission to use a lord’s given name, no matter how often we had coupled.   
“Giles…” The name came passing through my parted lips, as much a sigh as a word.  
“Ahh, Simonne, you will be the death of me yet…”  
He began kissing his way lower, his teeth grazing my skin with every kiss. His hands were warm on my flushed breast, squeezing and pinching them in turn.  
But I was not to find satisfaction so easily. Instead of bussing my most secretive folds, he instead began nuzzling against my inner thighs, the skin there hot and sensitive.  
My breathing was coming more rapidly now, my body growing slick with pleasure. I felt the Duc’s own pleasure rising, as his phallus grew stiff against my leg.   
Only when I was trembling beneath his attentions did he begin the languisement upon me. He tongue running along my inner lips, and over Naamah’s Pearl in delicious patterns until I could see nothing, hear nothing. I was at his utter mercy and I loved every moment of it. My fingers ran tightly through his hair as my hips jerked forward involuntarily. Like a cat lapping cream, he licked me.   
I writhed against his as he wiggled his tongue deeper inside of me, increasing pressure so that I gasped out loud. Again, he returned to Naamah’s Pearl, sucking gently on its swelling protrudence.  
Finally, my body had had enough, and wave upon wave of ecstasy hit me. I moaned audibly with pleasure, unable to control myself. I was lost in a moment of pure sensation, bliss beyond reckoning. He continued to work upon me, more gently now, until the last of my spasms had subsided, and my body went slack.  
The Duc d’Imbert began making his way back up my body, lazily bestowing his kisses. When at last he reached my mouth, I kissed him hungrily, craving the sensation of his lips upon mine. The taste of wine was gone from him, replaced by the tart, salty taste of my own femininity.  
Using a delicate touch, I reached down and guided him into me, feeling his member fill me. He sheathed himself in me to the hilt, his fingertips digging into my hips and I squirmed against him with wanton lust, not unbecoming.   
He rocked his hips against mine rhythmically, and it felt like the beat of a distant drum. He buried his face in my hair, tangled now in the throes of passion.  
“Simonne…my Simonne…” he murmured, as he drove himself deeper still into me. Still, Giles d’Imbert was no green lad, and was able to last a considerable amount of time, as such things are reckoned.   
One hand went behind his neck, as he pulled his face back from my mass of hair, and he looked me in the eye.   
“My love…” I breathed, holding his gaze, “my only love…”  
With these words he could hold back no longer, driving himself faster and deeper, until he shuddered against me, his body growing rigid with fruition.   
Finally, he slumped against me, satisfaction having overcome him. A small smile played across my face, for I could not help the feeling of accomplishment I had at bringing my patron to completion.   
After a moment or two further of breathing into my shoulder, the Duc rolled off of me. I laid my head upon his chest, while his fingers stroked my hair, combing through the tangles.   
“Do you mean it, Simonne?” he asked me, after a time.  
“Mean what my lord?”   
“Do you mean it when you tell me that you love me?”  
I hesitated in my response. For while it was true that I had a deep affection for the Duc, I knew that was not what he was asking. I was reluctant to give him a pat response, one such as I had been taught from childhood.  
“My lord,” I started slowly.  
“Giles,” he corrected me.  
“Giles,” I began again, “Of course I find you unendingly charming, and the most ardent of lovers. But you know, I am not in a position to choose. I do love you, with as much of my heart as I am free to give.”  
This was not the response he had hoped to receive, but there was nothing I could say that would make him feel better. Such was the lot of a courtesan. Trained to spin half-truths, to make pretty lies, and to make men believe them. Ah Elua, would that I could give myself to one such as Giles d’Imbert, body and soul, mind and heart. But it was not to be, and that was the most difficult lesson of all.   
He brushed an errant lock of hair from my brow.  
“I expected as much,” he said, sighing deeply, “still, I had hoped…”  
“I know, and truly my lord, were I free…”  
“Yes?” His eyes lit up with hope, and my heart broke anew.  
I looked away then, unable to meet his piercing countenance any longer.   
In truth, I had found things to love in all of my patrons, it was not a difficult thing to do, for one who was trained such. A boisterousness of personality, a cock of the head, a gleam of the eye. It is always better to love with one’s own heart than to feign affection for your patron. There may be those amongst our numbers who can accomplish such a thing, but I am not one of them. To leave this life would be unthinkable, and yet my thoughts lingered on the Duc, on what it would be like were my sole patron, or were my marque made and complete, and I free to choose.   
Duc d’I’mbert sat up then, resting his elbows upon his knees, head in his hands.  
As though he were reading my mind, he said, “Someday, Simonne, your marque will be full, and you can do as you will. I wonder, what will be your answer to me on that day?”  
I gave him no answer, there was none to give. Resigning himself, he rose from the bed a dressed himself. Reaching into his doublet, he removed a small pouch, swelling with coin. My patron gift, to be used towards the furthering of my marque, my freedom.  
“My lord is too generous,” I said, my hand sinking slightly under its weight as he pressed in into my palm.   
“No at all my love. All I do it hasten our future. Until the next time I may have the pleasure of your company…”  
He kissed me full on the mouth, then turned on his heel and left the room.  
I sat up, drawing the coverlet up around my shoulders, but it did nothing to help me. I was shivering, but it wasn’t from the cold.


	2. Dramatis Personae

Dramatis Personae

The Court of the Night Blooming Flowers:

Heliotrope:  
Simonne nó Heliotrope – An adept of the Heliotrope House   
Madeline nó Heliotrope - An adept of the Heliotrope House  
Cassandra nó Heliotrope - An adept of the Heliotrope House  
Reneè nó Heliotrope - An adept of the Heliotrope House  
Perrette nó Heliotrope – Dowayne of the Heliotrope House  
Calliope nó Heliotrope – Simonne’s mother  
Christìanne nó Heliotrope – Simonne’s mentor

Orchis:  
Isabeau nó Orchis – The old Dowayne of the Orchis House  
Patrik nó Orchis – The new Dowayne of the Orchis House

The Royal Family of Terre D’Ange:  
Sidone de la Courcel – Queen of Terre D’Ange  
Imriel de la Courcel – King of Terre D’Ange

D’Angelines:  
Duc Giles d’Imbert – A patron of Simonne’s  
Henri Fortun Melark – A patron of Simonne’s  
Madame Loques – Proprietress of Notre Humble Demeure  
Ralph Ensign – Simonne’s Guide   
Amarante of Namarre – High Priestess of the Temple of Naamah  
Ian Lefever – A Mysterious Stranger  
Master Covello – The Marquist  
Mathieu Shahrizai – A kinsman of Imriel  
Claudius Pinon – The Head Couturiere at Atelier Favrielle 

In La Serenissima:  
Signora Tadai – Proprietress of La Rosa Appassita   
Signore Castelano – Proprietor of La Gemma Appannato

Historical Figures:  
Phèdre nó Delaunay – An anguissette  
Joscelin Verreuil – A Cassiline Knight  
Ysandre de la Courcel – Sidone’s mother  
Melisandre Shahrizai – Imriel’s mother  
Anafiel Delaunay – Phèdre’s old master


	3. The Morning After

**Disclaimer: I did not create Terre d'Ange, or any characters you will recognize. The adepts of the Heliotrope house are my own invention, but Jaqueline Carey created the Kushiel's Legacy universe in which I write. Not profit here, just writing for a lark.**

I found myself in my chamber sometime later, a room I shared with three other girls the same age as I was.

My best friend, Madeline nó Heliotrope, sat on my bed with me. We shared similar coloring, though her hair was a lighter shade of brown than my own. Her eyes were a deep emerald, and they shone with good humor at the slightest provocation. She was more delicate of stature than I was, my body growing in shapely curves where hers was more childlike.

“So much money!” she exclaimed, “You will have your marque finished before any of us!”

My mouth quirked at the thought, it was true. Most adepts of my age had their marque going nearly a quarter of the way up their spine, a third if they were lucky. Mine would be halfway after today’s assignation with the Duc.

“He must truly care for you,” said Cassandra nó Heliotrope, sentiment tinting the edges of her words. Cassandra was soft and pliable of heart, with hair the color of apricots in the spring, and eyes like the sky during a storm, grey and somber. 

Renee nó Heliotrope was not with us, she was attending her own patron this evening. Her presence was not missed however, for while she was as competent as any other adept, she was haughty amongst her peers. 

“A regular Phèdre nó Delaunay you’re shaping up to be!” teased Madeline.

I wrinkled my nose at the thought, I’m no anguissette, to find pleasure in pain. My body is one made for tenderness, kisses and gentle embraces. 

The spring air was cool, and my skin pricked with the chill of it. The moon hung full and round in the sky, with stars twinkling all around it like diamonds.  
My heart glowed as I reflected on the day’s assignation; for while I had had many patrons true, not had touched my heart like Duc d’Imbert. 

Madeline must have noticed the expression on my face, for her face opened up like a flower, smiling. 

“You have feelings for the Duc as well, don’t you Simonne?”

I flushed at her assertion, “You know I cannot.”

Madeline sat thoughtfully for a moment, before replying, “It may not be conventional…but there are no rules I know of that outright forbid it. Your body may be given in service to Naamah, sister, but your heart is always you own so give. So says Elua.”

“Perhaps, were I stationed in a different house, that would be true. But we are Heliotrope, and our hearts must remain pure, and open. I cannot favor one patron above another. It goes against-”

“Against what?” Madeline asked, interrupting me, “do you seek to make a jest of all that Elua stood for?”

“I cannot have this conversation any longer.”

Madeline had come to Naamah’s service freely, joining our house in her tenth year, the year we began our training. She has been raised in Namarre near the Temple of Naamah. She had spent her life watching as her servants made their pilgrimages, and had romantic notions about our vocation. Even with all her of training, in spite of it, it seemed, she seemed to believe that Elua’s precept stood above our vows, above our duty. 

Cassandra, who had been raised in Heliotrope like myself, understood. She touched my arm, wordlessly. We exchanged a look, and she extended her compassion to me without saying anything at all. 

Madeline gave a small huff of impatience, and rose from my bed swiftly.

“I don’t know what to make of either of you,” she muttered irritably, “We are House Heliotrope! We are the house that holds love above all things! We are not Valerian, who yield to the sharpness love has to offer, nor are we Byrony, who prize canniness of mind over other attributes. “  
She gesticulated with her hands, passionately pleading her case to us. Cassandra too rose then, and wrapped her long willowy arms around Madeline’s frame. Madeline sunk into them, giving into the embrace. When she pulled back, there were tears shining in her brilliant eyes.

“Is this to mean that we are never to find love of our own?” she asked tremulously. 

“Of course we will, duck!” Cassandra said consolingly, “it is just not our time. If you wish it, then you will have suitors aplenty when the time comes. You may, however, find that you prefer to remain in Naamah’s service, as many others do.”

It was a sacred truth she spoke, for not all of Elua’s creatures were made for matrimony, and in fact most D’Angelines were not made for monogamy. Marriage was mostly a convention for nobility, a means of creating alliances between houses, while both parties were free to take lovers under most circumstances.  
Indeed, it is considered a rarity for any D’Angeline to remain 100% faithful to their spouse. Even our sovereigns, Queen Sidonie and King Imriel de la Courcel have been known to take lovers, though no one doubts their devotion to one another. 

“We are blessed,” Cassandra continued, “that we may fall in love over and over, night after night. How many may be as fortunate as we?”

Madeline listened to her words, nodding consideringly. I could tell that these thoughts weighed heavily on her mind, even after her eight years within our house. After a time, she spoke again, resolve in her voice, 

“I know you both think I’m just some starry eyed lass,” she began, “but I know my duty as well as either of you. And I thank Naamah for her blessings every day, truly I do. I just have hope yet for more.”

Mayhap Madeline should never have dedicated herself so, mayhap she should have been taken as a wife, and borne many children. Well and so, for we were young yet, and she had years before her to make that decision. 

As I laid on my pallet that night, trying to go to sleep, I couldn’t stop thinking about the events of the day. I kept picturing Duc d’Imbert in my mind’s eye, the way he looked at me as though he could see into my very heart. I could still feel the brush of his hands upon my body, his sensuous mouth upon my own. I shifted the weight of my body, trying to banish these thoughts from my mind, but still they lingered.  
I thought too on Madeline’s words. What was our future to bring? Were we to find true love? Were we even meant to? 

It was possible that she had the right of it, that Elua bade us to find companionship beyond the filial, beyond the carnal. If Naamah basked in her love as though in the sun, should we not also have the same right?  
Love as Thou Wilt. What did those words even mean? Some say that Elua is a light god, that love is but a faith for the frivolous, and that we D’Angelines are weaker for it. Not so, say those among our number whose love has been tested. Love is a hard thing and it works upon the heart like a millstone, sharpening our souls and our minds, until we are ready to go on to Terre D’Ange that lies beyond; finally filled with the knowledge of love’s mysteries that Elua tried to impart upon us. 

As I rolled over yet again, drawing my coverlet up to my chin, I finally began to drift off to sleep. The last thought before my mind lost all consciousness was of Duc d’Imbert’s fingers in my hair, as he asked me, “Do you mean it Simonne?”


	4. The Dowayne's Edict

THREE:  
The next morning, I awoke late, a result of my restless sleep. I clothed myself in my adept’s robes, lavender to match our houses colors; made of fine spun wool and belted with a brown leather braid. It was a simple shift that we wore between assignations, modest as such things went, and comfortable. I went downstairs to the main hall to break my fast. 

I found my roommates, seated together. I joined them, sliding onto the bench of hard polished wood.

“– and then she made me swear up and down that I’d never take another patron but herself! Of course I promised her no such thing, and she was beside herself as a result.” 

Renee was finishing up her story as I was finding my seat. I stirred the contents of my bowl, oatmeal with honey and berries for sweetness. I licked my spoon with relish, as the other girls nodded their head, listening with some enthusiasm to Renee’s tale. 

It was her wont to exaggerate, as we all knew, but her stories entertained just the same. A regular Mendacant she was. 

Not to be outdone, but with no news of her own to share, Madeline jumped into the conversation, “Well,” she started in a conspiratorial tone of voice, “Simonne’s patron, the Duc d’Imbert, can scarce keep himself from her side either! It seems as though we might have a love match on our hands!”

I shot her a look, telling her to be quiet, but she paid me no mind when Renee asked her, “a love match? How so?”

“Simonne has feelings for the Duc in return!” she squealed, ardor filling her words. 

Renee cast me a glace, her eyes were filled with intrigue, and I trusted her not. 

“Feelings for the Duc?” she asked innocently, her voice dripping honey, “and he returns them with avidity? However have you managed that my sister?”

I found myself taking a bite of my oatmeal to stall for time while my mind worked quickly to come up with a response. A raspberry exploded over my tongue, giving the bite an added tartness. Gulping the thick mouthful down, I came to my answer.

“It is true that the Duc is rather devoted to me,” I began assuredly, “but no more so than one would hope for a patron to be. And in return? Well, I find him nicely shaped to be sure, and an expert lover for one untrained, but there is nothing more to it than that.”

Renee nodded her head consideringly. I knew not what she would do with this information, and I had no idea if she had believed my half-truth. I could nearly see her thoughts working behind her hawkish eyes, like clockwork pieces winding their way towards conclusion. 

I felt the pit of my stomach drop when she smiled at me, it was ill indeed that she had any knowledge she could hold over my head. 

Adepts of the Night-Court are infamously competitive, and Renee was no exception. Many a girl is pushed in the showers to cause her minor injury, even scarring her betimes. Favirelle nó Eglantine was injured so, causing her a small white scar above her lip, and so making her flawed for Naamah’s service. It has even been known for adepts who are a fair hand at hair styling, like myself, to “slip” with the iron and singe a girl’s neck. Again, the flaw of a burn can be one’s undoing. 

Still, Renee needn’t injure me bodily to ruin my chances at becoming foremost courtesan of the Heliotrope House. All she needed to do was pour her words, sweetened with arsenic, into the eager ear of one of the more garrulous girls, and the gossip would spread like wild fire. 

“I’ll be taking my leave of you now,” Renee said, as she stood, rising in a single fluid motion. She was graceful in the way that a cat was; and she had a feline temperament as well. 

“I can’t believe you told her that I had feelings for the Duc!!” I hissed angrily at Madeline, my voice dropping to a whisper at the Duc’s name. 

Madeline returned my furious gaze with one that was at once sweet and bland. She may have been my best friend, but betimes her sweetness bordered on banality. I loved her, to be sure, but she wasn’t the brightest pigment on the palate. 

“But, I spoke nothing that wasn’t true…” she said uncomprehendingly, “you do have feelings for Duc d’Imbert, and you should be so fortunate that he loves you in return.”

I had no wish to carry on our repetitive conversation from the previous evening and told her as much. Cassandra artfully changed the subject.

“Have you heard chickens? There is to be a fête three weeks hence!”

I had heard no such news, and listened intently as she shared the details.

“The Dowayne of the Orchis House has decided to throw at fête, to celebrate her stepping down, and the investiture of her successor.”

This was indeed a cause for revelry, as a Dowayne only steps down from their appointment once they have reached an age where they no longer feel capable to perform their duties. No Dowayne had stepped down in all my time as an adept, so to say that this would be the event of the season was an understatement.

“Do we know the theme of the fête?” 

“Yes! It is to be a jovial affair, as it is Orchis House of course; and the theme is to be The Harlequin. There shall be a great deal of mischief, and I’ve heard tell that one of the adepts will be composing a parody recounting Dowayne Isabeau nó Orchis’ life.”

After this announcement, we chittered excitedly about the fête, what we should wear and what foods we could expect to be served. My emotional dalliance with d’Imbert was forgotten amongst discussions of fashion and confections. 

We would, of course, be dressed in the colors of our house, dark purple, mauve, and a soft buttery yellow. As adepts, we would likely be outfitted in similar styles, but speculation as to what the design would be ran high. The season dictated for high necklines; and as it was unseemly for an adept to show off their marque uncompleted, we could none expect plunging lines on our backs either. Still, we decided, this did not mean our costumes would be terribly modest as a surety. 

After we were done eating, we went about our chores for the day. Quarters needed to be cleaned, drafty rooms aired out, and linens washed. I had only been at my task (sweeping the long entry corridor) a short while, when one of the younger adepts came and informed me that the Dowayne wanted to see me. This was rather uncommon, as Dowayne Perrette nó Heliotrope rarely requested one of us into her attendance hall. 

I collected myself as best as I could, running an ivory comb through my long brown hair so that it gleamed. I kept my face naked of kohl or carmine, to maintain a modest appearance.  
As I entered the hall, I found my fingers playing with the ends of my hair nervously. The room was lush and fabulous, with grey marble floors, and white pillars that stood over my head. The hall was filled with flowers, heliotropes to be sure, as well as an array of others. But the primary scent was one of a florally vanilla, the scent of the heliotrope. My Dowayne sat regally on a high backed wooden chair, which in truth looked more like a throne. 

I approached her chair, and knelt to the ground, abeyante. 

“You wished to see me my lady?”

“Rise, Simonne nó Heliotrope, I have much to discuss with you.” Her voice was round and clear as a bell. There was sweetness in it too, having been raised in the Heliotrope house it would have been odd indeed if her voice were harsh or cold. 

I stood, and offered her a deep curtsy. I kept my eyes down unobtrusively. 

“Come forward child, and sit at my feet.”

I did as she requested, and drank in her beauty. At the age of six-and-forty, Perrette nó Heliotrope is one of the youngest reigning Dowaynes in the Court of Night Blooming Flowers. Her hair was like spun gold, with nary a strand of silver to be seen. Her eyes were deep and rich like amber, and she had a warm smile. 

“My child,” she began, “do you enjoy being in the service of Naamah?”

I startled at her question, it was not one that I expected.

“Of, of course my lady.”

“That is good. I have heard tell of things and rumors are a vicious thing, they can destroy one’s reputation.”

“Ma’am?”

“There has been talk, young Simonne, that you have…exceptionable feelings for one of your patrons, the Duc Giles d’Imbert?”

It felt like a lead ball had dropped in my stomach, Renee, I thought instantly. It had to have been she, cat-like and crafty though she was. 

I considered denial, but I knew that my emotions showed plainly on my face. We of Heliotrope are easy to read. 

“You must know Simonne, that these feelings you have are improper.”

I bowed my head in ascent.

“Of course, we are all subject to Blessed Elua’s precept, and we of the Night court are no exceptions. But whilst you remain in Naamah’s service, you are not to hold any patron above another.”  
“I know my lady.”

“Mayhap it is but a passing fancy?”

“I honestly…I do not know.” My face flushed at the remberance of his fingertips brushing my skin, his breath in my hair. His tongue running over my folds.  
The Dowayne cocked her head slightly, considering me. After a time, she began to speak again.

“I believe you feel true feelings for the Duc Simonne. Would that this were something more transient, and I would have no need to take such measures.”

I looked back at her, my confusion obvious.

“Henceforth, you are not to take any assignations with the Duc d’Imbert. You are not to see him, or communicate with him at all.”

I could feel the blood drain from my face, and I was momentarily lightheaded as a result. No more assignations with Giles? I could neither speak to nor see him? I felt my lip begin to tremble, and I looked back up at the Dowayne, tears brimming behind my eyes. I considered petitioning her to reconsider, but her expression was resolute.

“Simonne, dear Simonne; I know you must feel that this is an unfair punishment I have laid upon you, but rest assured that it is for the best. You are young and beautiful. You shall have many more patrons, and you will be able to love them with a pure, open heart, unfettered by these romantic notions for the Duc. And once your marque is complete, if your feelings hold true, then you can go freely to him with the blessing of the house and myself.”

A solitary tear forced its way out, and trailed slowly down my cheek. I could feel my young heart, so resilient and full of joy only hours before, shattering like a mirror, capriciously smashed upon the ground.  
“It is for my lady to say,” I responded, my voice just above a whisper. 

“You may return to your quarters, you are relieved of your duties for the remainder of the day.”

I rose to my feet, far less graceful that I usually was, and found myself stumbling just a little bit. I curtseyed to the Dowayne, and made my way back out of her chamber.

I remember not my journey back to my own room. I was numb, and I walked as though in a trance. Once there, however, the floodgates on my heart opened up, and I collapsed upon my small bed, and sobbed into my pillow until I could take no more, and the blessed darkness of sleep claimed me.


	5. A New Assignation

Four:

The several days passed by me in a blur. It was nearly a week before I received an assignation, but thankfully word of my feelings for the Duc had not spread beyond idle gossip.  
Henri Fortun Melark was to be my patron on this day, and I readied myself for his arrival. I wore a frock the shade of merlot, which hung in the Illyrian style off my shoulders. A gold embroidered stomacher was synched tightly about my waist, giving me a more pleasing figure. I had visited the marquist three days prior, so my back was still tender to the touch, but the rest of my body remained unscathed. My heart, however, was bruised beyond measure.

Still, it would do no one any good to have that fact known. I had my duty to think of, and it was a sacred one at that. Lord Melark would have no cause for complaint against me, for I knew well enough that if he did, my reputation would be soiled beyond repair. 

He was already in the room when I arrived. My hair was wrapped up in a complicated twist, several spiraled curls were hanging loosely to frame my face, and my eyes were lined with kohl. I had a touch of carmine on my cheeks and lips, but I was otherwise unadorned. 

This was to be my first assignation with Melark, and while I had thoroughly reviewed the terms of our meeting beforehand, one is always a bit uneasy when meeting a patron for the first time. Lord Melark was sitting on the bed when I walked through the door. I feigned surprise, and dropped to my knees immediately, taking a supplicating position. 

“Good day my lord,” I said, my eyes looking up gently to meet his. 

Henri Melark was not a Duc, or a Marquis, or even a Count. He was just a man, though one who was wealthy enough to afford a casual afternoon with a Servant of Naamah in the middle of the week. His long hair was the color of thistledown, and his eyes were deep brown. His face was angular, with his chin and nose both coming to sharp points. Still, he was D’Angeline after all, and so he was beautiful. He had a distinctly masculine jawline, and age which had colored his hair had not yet reached his skin which was fine and smooth. As I looked up at him, I imagined eyes of pale jade, and wheat hair trimmed in the Caerdicci style. I saw a round, full face and generous lips. 

I shook my head slightly, trying to clear away the image of Duc d’Imbert. My mind needed to be focused on the task at hand, and my heart needed to be open. 

“Simonne nó Heliotrope. As I live and breathe. I have heard tales of your refinement, but I see now that everything I’ve heard was but a trifle. Your countenance in person is truly indescribable.”

He rose off of the bed, extending a hand to help me to my feet. I took it, and stood to my full height. Melark was rather tall, and he had a thin, wiry frame. His fingers found their way into my hair, brushing it back behind my ear. I smiled my most winning smile, and kept my eyes clear and joyful. 

“My lord is far too generous with his compliments.” The words fell out of my mouth like flower petals, soft and pliant. 

His mouth quirked, he was charmed by me, that much was obvious. Well and good, for I was in no mood to over exert myself emotionally. My heart was frail yet, held together with paste and bits of twine.  
I leaned in, and kissed him softly on the mouth. He tasted of mint, he must have chewed upon some leaves before his arrival. He tongue found its way between my parted lips and probed my mouth fervently.  
I wound my arms around his neck and pulled him in close. His body felt tight and sinewy against my own, and I found myself again yearning for Giles’ softer, more muscular form. 

I sucked gently on is earlobe, and his hands found their way around my waist and grabbed me firmly on the buttocks. He squeezed them, causing a wave 0of pleasure to ripple through my body. I pulled back slightly and undid his red tunic, unfastening the ivory clasps that held it together. His chest was covered in silver wiry hairs, thick and dense. I bent ever so slightly at the waist, and nipped at his nipple. He sucked in his breath hard, as I rolled it between my teeth until it grew firm in my mouth. I slid the tunic over his shoulders, folded it neatly and deposited it onto a chair. My hands reached down and undid my stomacher, and I was able to breathe more freely. I held my arms above my head, as Melark pulled the dress up and off. This too was folded and placed on the chair. So different, this assignation, from the one of passion and discarded clothing with d’Imbert. 

“My my, pretty as a summer peach you are…” Melark murmured, half to himself. 

I could see his hardness growing under his breeches, so I used my fingers to make quick work of his belt, and pulled them down, revealing him to myself. He was larger than I had anticipated, his cock nestled in a thicket of hair that matched that on his chest, though perhaps a shade darker. 

I kissed my way down his chest, sinking slowly back to my knees. I took his full length into my mouth, performing the langisement upon him. I rolled my tongue over the head of his penis, swirling it around and under its mushroom like tip. Henri groaned audibly, and thrust his hips forward, jutting himself deeper still. He gripped the back of my head with avidity and held fast to my hair. 

I looked up at him, my eyes dark with desire. He met my gaze with lust a lust filled look in his. 

I wrapped my hands around him, and probed at the small hole in his rear with my smallest finger. His knees tensed, and I felt as he bucked against me, his hips keeping time with my tongue. Lord Melark was, for all his age, less restrained than d’Imbert, and he spent himself quickly, his seed filling my mouth. I swallowed him down happily. 

He stumbled back, and fell onto the bed, satisfied. He beckoned for me to join him, and I did, laying my head upon his chest. His fingers stroked at my hair, and I managed to swallow the lump that was forming in my throat. This was the first time I had felt anything like comfort since my assignation with the Duc, and I’d be lying if I said that it wasn’t something of a relief to be so cosseted. 

“You were wonderful my dear,” he said after a time.

“My lord is too kind.”

“Would you like it if I now pleased you, my blossom?”

I looked up at him, he had a kindness shining in his eyes, and for that I was, again, grateful. No, he was not my Duc, but chances were good that I would never see Giles again. He would find some new adept to upon to bestow his affections, and I? I had my vows to fulfill. I smiled up at him, and nodded my head.

Melark rolled out from underneath me, and propped himself up on one elbow. He began trailing his fingers languidly over my figure, and I shivered under his touch.

“Well then, my dear, let us begin.”


	6. Renee's Vow

Five:  
After much excited speculation, the day had finally arrived for us to go to House Eglantine, that the adepts there could show us what we would be wearing to the Orchis fête, and take our measurements. The Night Court is a small community, so we walked the short distance to their fitting studio, all dressed in our everyday garb. Once inside, we settled ourselves on the floor, leaning comfortably against the walls, or against one another. I sat nestled between Madeline and Cassandra, as always. 

Pricilla nó Eglantine came out after a short time, armed with a large sketch board upon which were three different drawings. We would not be dressed identically after all, I was relieved to find, and we would each have our choice of the options offered. Swatches of fabric were connected to the board, to give us a more informed opinion. 

The first dress was made of mauve satin and lace. It had a high choker collar, which was made of lace in the same shade as the satin, as was the bust. The lace went down about midway down the torso, and the skirt cascaded prettily down from there. The second dress was a deep wine colored fabrication, with a sweetheart neckline and circular cap sleeves. It had boning along the ribcage, to give a slandering effect to the wearer. The skirt was trumpeted, and fell all the way to the floor. It was made of a crumply taffeta, and looked dreadful hot. The final dress had a cowl neck, and a drop waist. There were seed pearls covering the whole of it, sketched in with what looked like haphazard precision. It was made of amethyst georgette, and quite lovely. 

I was immediately drawn to the first dress though, mauve being a color that I tended to favor, and the lace collar was too much for me to pass up. As we each made our selections, we were placed into groups for fitting, separated based on what we had chosen. Madeline had picked the taffeta, and Cassandra the georgette. Well and good, we would not match each other. Reneè had selected the same dress as I had, and though I had no great wish to look alike her, I was not about to change my opinion over something as silly as that. 

I stood on a small box, as an adept pinned fabric to my naked body, holding it and measuring it with her hands. She wrapped a tape about my hips, and draped the fine cotton around me. My marque had grown several more inches since my assignation with Melark, and I felt pride when the other adepts looked at my back with a mixture of awe and admiration. 

Reneè, standing on the box next to me, inclined her head slightly in my direction, and commented, “It is so nice, sister, to see that you are still receiving regular assignations. When you remained in our chambers for three full days, I was so worried about you.”

My jaw dropped slightly, I was caught off guard that she had the gall to make such comments in mixed company, or at all for that matter. Still, I should not have been so shocked, as it was Reneè.  
“Of course I still receive assignations,” I replied coolly, “I was merely ill for a few days. You know that as well as anyone.”

“Heartsick, mayhap. I’ve heard tell that the Dowayne herself has forbidden you to see the Duc d’Imbert, and we all know how you felt about him.”

Several other adepts has turned and were looking now in our direction. Reneè was speaking quietly, so as to be discreet, but her words carried nonetheless. I felt the color in my cheeks rise at the mention of the Duc’s name. I stepped neatly off of my box, grabbed her hand, and dragged Reneè into a more secluded corner.

“I know what you’re about,” I hissed through my teeth, “you’re trying to soil my reputation, you want to be the foremost courtesan of Heliotrope. Well it won’t work. I had my assignation only days ago with Lord Melark, and I have yet another scheduled two days hence with Comtesse Katherine de Sinchelle. I know that you are the one who told the Dowayne about Duc d’Imbert and I, and I tell you again, your plans are for naught. I will have my marque made, and soon. And then I shall be free to do as I will, with whomever I choose.”

To my surprise, Reneè made me no denials, but simply laughed in my face. 

“Oh you silly girl. Don’t you know that your reputation matters not to me? You can take a thousand patrons for all that I care one whit. It will make it that much more entertaining when I steal them from you one by one. And I will be starting with the Duc d’Imbert. When next he comes to visit Heliotrope, I will make it my mission to be the adept he chooses. I will win his heart from you a surely as Cassiel was the Perfect Companion. And I will do it for sport. The Duc won’t know what has hit him, I can mimic your modest glances, and saccharine ways. I was trained in Heliotrope just as you were, and I know how to give any patron what he wants. And after him, I shall steal Melark. And then the Comtesse Sinchelle. No matter how many patrons you take, Simonne nó Heliotrope, I shall be there to capture them from you. And when you are free and your marque is won? I shall be there then as well. You will never be free of me.”

I stared at her, overcome with disbelief. What had I ever done to deserve such ire? My confusion must have shown plainly upon my face, for Reneè smirked at me contemptuously. 

“No response from the wilting flower?” Her voice dripped with disdain, “go and speak with your mother. Mayhap she can shed a little bit of light onto this situation for you.”

With another laugh that chilled me to the bone, Reneè turned on her heel and walked away from me. 

I found myself standing in place for a long while after she had left, lost in thought. My Eglantine adept had to come and retrieve me, pulling me back to my box and standing me up upon it once again. She was pinning on a lace collar now, but I scarcely even noticed her. I could feel Reneè, standing right next to me, her presence like a flame by my side, burning me with her very proximity. What on earth had she meant? What had my mother to do with Reneè’s resentment of me? I had no idea, but I meant to find out.


	7. A Visit With Mother

Six:  
Nearly a week passed before I was able to visit with my mother, Calliope nó Heliotrope. My assignation with the Comtesse Sinchelle passed without incident. She was fair, and regal. We had taken turns pleasuring one another late into the night, and I had enjoyed myself. Her patron gift had been generous, and I had again visited the marquist, who commented that I was among his most frequent visitors. The words gave me little enough pleasure though, as Reneè’s comments had been tumbling about my mind like a stone all week, until they were polished to a high sheen.  
My mother had made her marque many years before, of course, and lived in a townhouse in the City of Elua proper with a handful of other former adepts. It is a rare Servant of Naamah indeed who can afford to set up her own house once released from their vows, though it has been known to happen. Some of Her Servants became instructors in the carnal arts, some opened salons, and others married and began families of their own. My mother did none of these things, and lived a simple life with her companions; they took on patrons frequently enough to be able to live a comfortable lifestyle to be sure, but were beholden to no man or woman. 

I entered the drawing room, and sat upon a plush chair of red crushed velvet, with gold piping and chestnut fixtures. One of maman’s servants brought in a carafe of wine, as well as two glasses. I sat by myself for a short time before my mother entered. 

Calliope nó Heliotrope was beautiful, of that there is no doubt. I am an almost perfect likeness of her, with the long chestnut hair that hung in waves down our backs, and the large opaline blue eyes. Our fair skin was easy to flush pink, and we were blessed with womanly curves. My mother stood a scant inch or two higher than myself, and she had the regal bearing of one raised in the Night Court. Looking at my mother was like peering into a looking glass reflection of my future, and I was not displeased with what I saw there. Her face was full and heart shaped, her skin flawless still, though she was nearing the age of nine and forty. She smiled easily, and her lips were plump and naturally colored, she had no need of carmine or to bite down upon them to color them artificially. 

She was wearing a casual shift of aqua-marine chiffon, which had a plunging neckline and wrapped around the back of her neck, fastening there in a knot. Her hair was in a lover’s haste knot, and covered with a silver mesh caul, which matched to perfection to silver gilt belt she wore about her waist. She held out her arms to me, and I fell into them happily, luxuriating in the safe feeling that enveloped me as she wrapped them around me. 

“Simonne,” she purred into my ear, her voice sweet like honey, “my darling daughter. It has been far too long since I’ve seen you. And how have you been fairing?”  
I pulled back and tried to smile at her, wishing nothing more than to reassure her of my continued happiness. Alas, I am not skilled enough at falsehoods, and my misery was plain. My mother’s smile fell as she regarded me with concern.

“What is it my dear?”

I fell down into my chair, as she sank gracefully into her own. With a shuddering sob, I recounted the last two and a half weeks to her, beginning with my assignation with Duc d’Imbert and finishing with my conversation with Reneè six days prior. To her credit, my mother gave me no reproach regarding my feelings for the Duc. She merely took my hand sympathetically, and nodded along as I told her my tale.  
Once I was done, we sat in silence for a time, as my breathing evened out and I regained my composure. I ran the back of my hand roughly over my eyes, to wipe away the dampness there. 

“Simonne,” my mother stated slowly, “what can I do for you dear, how can I help?”

“I drew in a deep, ragged breath and straightened myself, “can you tell me why Reneè hates me so? Why she has made it her priority to destroy me, and any hope of happiness?”

My mother shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She averted her eyes, and looked off into space, distant, and apparently lost in thought. When she looked back at me, there was something new in her eyes, some unfathomable depth, and loss. Her voice, when she spoke, was hollow. 

“What passed between Reneè’s mother and I happened long ago, and should not be spoken of. It should be forgotten, like things from the past ought.”

“But, whatever happened obviously has not been forgotten! Reneè seeks to desolate me, and all that I hold dear!”

When my mother remained silent, I tried to appeal to her maternal side, “Maman, please help me! Even if I am never to see the Duc again, I cannot bear the thought of Reneè in his arms, holding her and kissing her and bestowing his favors upon her. If you have some knowledge as to why she targeted me, how can you not share it?”

My mother looked for a moment as though she would speak, but then shook her head furiously, as though to dislodge the thoughts therein. 

“I’m sorry my daughter, but I cannot help you. You speak of ancient matters, and it is not for me to involve myself. You are no longer a child, you must resolve your issues with Reneè on your own.”  
I looked at her disbelievingly. That my mother had information that could help me, and that she was withholding it, it was nigh unto unthinkable. Granted, we had never been particularly close, most children reared in the Night Court are not close to their parents, but I had never thought that she would desert me. so I rose slowly, a bit unsteady on my feet still, “If that is your advice, mother,” I stopped, unsure of how to continue. Words failed me, and I gave her a gentle curtsy, and then left the room. 

I took a carriage back to the Night Court, trying to understand what had happened. I was raised in Heliotrope, and not by Anafiel Delaunay, the Whoremaster of Spies. I was no fair hand at disassembling, and I knew not the nine tell-tales of a lie. I was just me, an adept who was lost and confused in is sea of intrigue, and I needed to find out what was happening, but quick.


	8. The Fete

Seven:

Finally, the night of the Orchis fête had arrived. Our gowns had been delivered from Eglantine the day before, and mine fit to perfection. My hair was coiled in many corkscrew curls and piled high on my head. My services were, of course, called upon and I dressed the hair of some fifteen adepts that day all told. 

Each adept was paired with a male escort from our house, and mine was Estienne nó Heliotrope. His long brown hair had been ironed flat, and it hung down just passed his shoulders. He wore breeches of deep plum, and a tunic of mauve that matched my dress. The marque of Heliotrope was embroidered in the same shade of plum on the back of his tunic. Arm in arm, we entered the celebration hall of the Orchis House, which was gaily strung with lights. There were tiny lanterns, hanging on strings, which were stretched across the length of the hall, and the decorations were that of red and white, the colors of the house. There were red and white orchis flowers strewn about the floor, and hanging in garlands along the walls. There was a string quartet playing festive music in the corner, and a banquet table along one side that was covered with food. Exotic fruits, from all corners of Terre d’Ange, as well a pastry confections and several savory options were spread over every square inch. 

Madeline, of course, made a bee-line for the desserts, filling her plate with croquembouche, which were her favorite. The small balls of choux pastry covered with caramel were something which I also planned to avail myself of later, but I was not hungry as of yet, and so I decided instead to go along with Estienne to the dancefloor. The band was playing a jaunty tune, and Estienne swirled me in circles at a dizzying pace.  
We danced a coranto, which involves switching partners, taking their hands, and much twirling. I hopped and spun as quickly as my feet could carry me, scarcely noticing whose hands I joined with. Until our hands met. I felt his hands on my own before I saw his face. It felt like a spark of lightning going through my fingers, traveling down my palms, and up into my arms. I glanced up, and to my utter shock my eyes met with those of the Duc d’Imbert. His eyes were glowing in the soft candlelight, and his mouth was spread in a generous grin; his grin. I felt my knees go weak beneath me, and he swiftly looped an arm around my waist to steady me.

“Duc,” I began, my voice tremulous.

“Simonne,” he responded, gazing down at me, “it seems for once that we find ourselves at the same fête, is it not so?”

I gulped hard and nodded, trying to ignore the pit of anxiety in my belly. Whatever would happen if we were seen together?

“My dear, I have missed you so. Might I steal you away from your escort, that we might have a moment to speak in private?”

Again, I nodded, and took his hand as we exited the dancefloor. I made eyes at Estienne, letting him know that I would be leaving, but he paid me no mind. He was dancing now with a lovely girl from the Cerus house, his eyes fixed heavily on her décolletage. 

The Duc guided me easily from the main hall, to a balcony outside, where benches and chairs had been placed for the convenience and comfort of the guests. I sat down on one of the proffered chairs, and the Duc sat, facing me. He held both of my hands in his own, and they tingled from their warmth. 

“Simonne,” he began slowly, “I have been to Heliotrope on three separate occasions since our last assignation, and every time I have come to visit, I have been told that you are with a different patron. Is it truly that you are merely so busy, or have I caused you some offense, that you no longer wish to make my acquaintance?”

I sat silently for a time, longer perhaps, than I ought. His eyebrows were knit together with concern, and his thumbs ran gently over the tops of my hands. I looked down at my feet, which were clothed in plumb satin slippers, with small crystals stitched on. When finally I looked up, to meet his gaze, my lower lip began to quiver, and I found that I was trembling all over. 

“My lord,” I whispered, the words barely escaping my throat, which was tight and thick. I tried to continue, but I had no words that I was able to respond with.

“Simmone, my beautiful girl, what is it? You can tell me anything. How have I wronged you, that I may repair the damage? Or, if my presence is so offensive, say but the word and I will leave your side forever, no matter how much it would grieve me to do so.”

At his sweet words, a single tear made its way from my eye, and trailed down my cheek. I was half certain the kohl I had lined there earlier would be smudged, but that was of no matter at this moment. I knew what I needed to say, what I was trained to say, to gently send the Duc on his way, but I could not bring myself to be false with him any longer. 

“They have found out, my lord,” I breathed.

“Found out? Found out what?”

“They have found out that I feel true feelings for you, that our assignations are no mere play acting, and that I would give myself to you in truth were I able.”

There, the words had been said. And truths, once told, cannot be taken back. I looked at him then, searching his eyes to try and know his mind. I did not have to wait very long though, for they almost immediately lit up, like the candles hanging about the hall inside. His beautiful smile returned to his face full force, all lines of worry erased. 

“But…my love…that is wonderful news!” he exclaimed, rising from his chair, and all but jumping for joy, “that you could love me, truly love me…I had hoped of course, but I never actually believed it possible…”  
He say down again, and raised his left hand, cupping my cheek, “but then, why did you refuse my visits?”

A sob worked its way up from my chest, as I burst out, “They know, my lord, they know. And I am thusly forbidden from seeing you.”

Confusion read plainly on his face, and his brows drew back together, “But, Blessed Elua bade us-”

“Bade us to love as we wilt, I know,” I interrupted him, “But my lord,”

“Giles”

“Giles,” I said softly, a small smile playing on my lips, “I am Heliotrope, and my heart is not free to give. Were I member of any other house, this would be no issue, and I could take you as my favored patron.”  
A spark gleamed in his eye at the mention of being my favored patron. 

“But that is not the case…Giles…and as I am required to love every patron who comes to me equally, as Naamah herself did, I am allowed no more assignations with you. However much that may break my heart.”

My head dropped again, as I tried to stifle another sob. When finally I had regained my composure and looked back up, his eyes were set with a kind of determination I had never seen before. 

“We must run away then.”

“Oh my lord, if only that were the answer! But I would be disgraced, my mother shamed, were I to break my vows. No, I must complete my service to Naamah. And then, if you will still have me, I may finally belong to you and you alone.”  
“And what shall we do until then? Am I to wait, for years mayhap, until your marque is complete? I am not a jealous man, Simonne, you know that well, but the thought of you engaging with other men, and women too I have no doubt, when your heart belongs to me…It fair unto breaks my own heart as well.”

His hand had dropped from my face while he said that, and the evening air felt cool where its warmth had laid. I smoothed the skirt of my dress, which had rumpled slightly. 

“Am, am I truly not to see you at all for this time?” there were tears brimming in his lovely green eyes as he asked this, “For I do not think that I could bear to live without you entirely.”

All at once, an idea came into my head. I rose quickly from my chair, and grasped his hand tightly. I raised a single finger to my mouth, gesturing for him to keep quiet. We slipped back into the main hall, but then I made a sharp right, and led him down an abandoned corridor. There were drapes and tapestries hanging all over, creating a small, intimate space. I pulled him behind one of the the larger tapestries, where there was a small hidden nook.

“I am not able to offer you much my lord,”

“Glies, please call me Giles.”

“Giles. I am not able to offer you much, but what I have to give is yours. I give you my heart. And whenever I am able to sneak away, I shall do my best to find you. And…I can offer you tonight. No fees, no patron gifts, no games. Just you and I, paying homage to Naamah and Elua in our own way, with all the love we have to give one another.”

He smiled at that, and ran his hand up around my neck, under my hair. He leaned in, and kissed me ever so softly on the lips, and when he pulled back, I smiled at him, and asked him, “Is this enough? Can it be?”  
“Nothing could ever be enough, my love, but it will do for now. I make you this vow, though you do not ask it: I have not the finances to purchase your marque outright, else i would do that in an instant. I shall, however, slip you whatever funds I can whenever I may see you, not as a patron gift or as some kind of a fee, but as the only way that I can which may hasten you freedom. I want you to make your marque, Simonne, and I would never want you shamed. But you and I are meant for each other, and I would do anything to speed our union.”

My mouth hung slightly open at this offer, I could never have expected it. It was unorthodox to say the least, but so was our entire situation. And I did not believe it was blasphemous for him to secret money to me, surely Elua would look down kindly on us. I smiled and nodded, “I accept your vow Giles, and I make one of you in return: Every cent I make shall go towards the making of my marque, and the moment that I am free, I shall rush into your arms and be forever yours.”

With that said, he wrapped his arms round me, and pulled me in tightly against him. My arms went up around his neck, and he kissed me deeply. I felt his tongue against my lips, and they opened, granting his access. He deepened our kiss, pulling me still closer, until I almost couldn’t breathe. But that mattered not to me. I pressed myself against him as hard as I could in our small alcove. 

His hand slid down my side, and slowly began to hitch my skirt up over my knee. My breathing began to quicken, and he buried his face in my chest, inhaling deeply and peppering my breasts with kisses in rapid succession. As he kissed me, his hand reached up under my skirt, and felt at the folds between my thighs, already warm and wet. He let out a low groan, as his fingers slid back and forth along the outsides.  
“Shhh!” I giggled, though only a moment later my head was thrown back, and I was breathless with pleasure. He worked me quickly with his two fingers, a turns teasing Naamah’s Pearl, and sliding up inside of me. I could feel the pleasure building up inside of me, and soon, far too soon, my body released, my hips undulating wildly against him, one of his hands over my mouth to quiet my moans of ecstasy. My body eventually slowed, and I rested my head against his chest, happily satiated. He stroked my hair for a time, murmuring to me all the ways in which he loved me, and would always protect me. But I could feel his need still through his breeches, and I was not about to let that man I loved go unsatisfied. 

I pulled back, and cocked my brow at him.

“Oh really?” Was his reply. Wordlessly, I nodded, and then sank to my knees. I unbuckled his belt, the same one he had worn on our last assignation I noticed, and then lowered his breeches to the floor. I took all of him inside of my mouth at once, I was so hungry to have him filling me. I bobbed my head up and down, twirling my tongue around his head, and working my hand tightly on his shaft. Giles was making little sounds of pleasure in his throat, his hands drifting over the complicated pile of curls on top of my head. After a time, he placed his hands instead on my shoulders, and pulled me up. I wiped the corner of my mouth, and smiled wickedly at him. He grinned right back at me, and then turned me so that I was facing away from him. 

I bent neatly at the waist, and pulled my skirt up as far as it would go. I rested my elbows on a large vase, and put most of my weights there. He placed his hands on my bare hips, and in one smooth thrust, he entered me. Gods, but he felt glorious. I could scarce believe it had only been a month since I had last seen him. It felt like a century. Giles rocked against me, gliding in and out easily. I bit down on my hand to keep from crying out, and finally, he came inside of me. I stood, slumped against the vase, and Giles stood still, his fingers tracing the lines of my shoulders. 

“Soon, my love, you will be mine. I will do everything in my power to aid you in the completion of your vows, and once you free, I will make you my wife. If you will have me.”

I pulled away, letting him drop softly out of me, and looked him in the eye, “Do you mean that messier? Do you mean to take me to wife?”

“With all my heart Simonne. You are everything I have ever wanted, you a beautiful, and funny, and intelligent, and the sweetest woman I have had the pleasure of meeting. If you will it, I wish to be your husband upon your release from Naamah’s Service.”

There were tears in my eyes again, for the second time this evening, but now they were the tears of a woman whose heart’s desire is being offered up.

“Yes, Giles, yes I will marry you!”

I flung my arms around his neck, and kissed him as many time as I could. He chuckled softly, his breath warming my hair. 

“It shall come to pass then, mayhap not as quickly as we would like, but when the time is right.”

I drew back, and smoothed my skirt again. However it had gotten wrinkled so many times in a single night, I’m sure I had no idea! We snuck out from behind the tapestry, and there was a mirror hanging on the wall. I quickly adjusted my hair, and straightened my bust. Thankfully, the lining around my eyes remained intact. I leaned in for one last kiss from my beloved. 

“I think it would be wise if we reentered the fête separately.”

He nodded his agreement, “I shall see you soon I hope?”

“Not soon enough, my love, but as soon as I am able to arrange it.”

“That will have to be enough then.”

He ran his thumb over my lips, “Until then, my Simonne.”

“Until then, my Duc”

I turned to go, but cast a final glance over my shoulder before returning to the main hall. I smiled at him, and then I walked back into the fray.


	9. The Investiture

Eight:

The rest of the fête went by without incident. I fairly stuffed myself with the food there, brandied pears, and spiced hen with wild rice being my favorite dishes. I danced with many, but was careful to avoid Giles for the rest of the night. How we had managed to sneak away, and return without being noticed was some kind of a small miracle. I noticed Reneè’s eyes on me on more than one occasion, but there was little she could do to ruin my good mood.

He wants to marry me, I thought giddily, he see me as more than just a courtesan, he sees into my true heart and loves me for it all.

There is nothing sweeter, truly, that being in love and having that love returned. This must have been how Elua’s companions felt, when they left the side of the One God, to follow him as he walked the Mother Earth. So filled with rapture, and joy, at merely the thought of being by his side. I did catch his eye across the hall once more before the evening was over, I looked up from a conversation with Cassandra, and saw him over her shoulder. He was on the other side of the room, and he was staring openly at me. When our eyes met, his mouth quirked, and his lips spread once again into that beautiful smile I had so come to adore. I smiled back, my eyes twinkling, and then broke our connection, turning back to my sister, that no one would suspect us. 

The parody that Alayne nó Orchis had written of the Dowayne’s life was funny to be sure, but I scarce heard a word of it. My heart was beating like a hummingbird’s in my chest, though I was practicing my slow, measured breathing. 

The ceremony of investiture, however, was beautiful and something that I shall remember always. Dowayne Isabeau was sitting in her high backed chair, mahogany, and carved with intricate designs depicting Blessed Elua’s emergence from the cell he was imprisoned in in Persis. He stood there, in the center of the cresting, with his hands held out in welcome. There were flowers draped all around him, and his companions stood to either side. Even from my place in the center of the hall I knew what the carvings looked like, for they were the same as on the Dowayne’s chair in my own house. Every Dowayne had the same chair, fashioned centuries ago it is said, that they might remember Naamah’s gift to Elua on that eve, and his liberation. 

Lady Isabeau, as she was henceforth to be known, sat in her chair, as the new Dowayne, Patrik nó Orchis, kneeled before her abayente. A Priest of Naamah was there to preside over the ceremony in his long red robes, and he quoted from the Euline Cycle:

“Misbegotten and reviled by Yeshuites and Tiberians alike, Elua was cast out to wander, and flowers bloomed where his feet trod. And where he went, people feared him, for he was strange to them, and the One God scorned him, mourning only for his true-gotten son. But when the King of Persis cast blessed Elua in chains, there were among the angels in Heaven those who took pity upon him.

Naamah was first among them, and it was she who gave herself to the King to win blessed Elua's freedom with a night's pleasure, and also there was clever Shemhazai, gentle Eisheth and kind Anael, proud Azza and martial Camael, and Kushiel with his cruel mercies. And not last among them was Cassiel, who came in duty to the compassion the One God had forgotten. When the door to blessed Elua's cell was opened, a fragrance of flowers came forth and Elua emerged singing, crowned in vines, and their hearts were moved to love him.”

 

I felt tears dampen my cheeks as he spoke the words. I had heard them often since my childhood, but the thought of Naamah giving herself over to the King of Persis never failed to move me. 

Isabeau rose from her seat, and lifted the silver diadem from atop her head, as Patrik stood and faced her. 

“With my blessing, I confer upon you the rank of Dowayne of the Orchis House. May your heart be light, and may your wisdom be true.”

She placed the diadem on his head, and Dowayne Patrik bowed to her, as the Lady Isabeau sank in a curtsey.

“May your days be long, and filled with joy,” he responded. He pronounced “joy” as “joie,” causing a ripple of laughter across the crowd. He turned and took his seat as the new Dowayne, and it was done. We all applauded, and then gently dispersed and returned to our mingling and frivolity. 

Madeline came up to me, and told me excitedly that Giles was present. It took much of my skill to keep my face passive, but I managed the trick of it nicely. 

“Yes, I had heard that he was in attendance,” I said slowly, trying to keep my voice calm.

“Well, don’t you want to see him? I’m sure there is somewhere the two of you could sneak off to, and surely there are things you wish to tell him?”

I sighed mournfully, “Madeline, there is indeed much I wish to say to the Duc, but we both know that that is simply not possible. There are far too many people here, too many eyes that could see us. You know of Reneè’s quest to destroy me, I am not about to give her any further ammunition to throw in my direction.”

Madeline breathed deeply, and pursed his lips with disappointment, “you are right, I am sure. Still, imagine what fun it would be! To begin some kind of lurid affair…” she trailed off dreamily. She had no idea how close she was to the truth, and though I loved her well, I was smart enough by now to know that her lips were loose. No, this secret I shared with Giles would remain between the two of us. He loved me, and I him. The knowledge of that would have to be enough for now. 

We continued dancing late into the night, wine and joie flowing freely. The band played its most rousing tunes, which kept us light on our feet. When finally night had passed into the early hours of the morning, we were informed discreetly that it was time to be going. Estienne took my arm, and led me to the door. I scanned the room for one final glance of Giles, but I could not see him amongst the hoi ploy. A secret smile was upon my face, and remained there as we walked the several blocks back to our house, as the first flush of the dawn arose of the City of Elua.


	10. The Archives

Nine:  
The next day we were all released from our duties. Well and good, for several of us had headaches, stomachaches, or both. Too much rich food and joie, one supposes. 

I had decided to take full advantage of this day off, and I went downstairs into the basement of the Heliotrope house. There were located the House Archives, records upon records, dating back to the inception of the House, detailing the adepts who had come before and the assignations they had had. Record keeping has always been important in the Night Court, every house has at least three scribes on hand at any given time, to negotiate the details of our assignations on behalf of the Dowayne, to record the progress of our marques, and to make note of any important details in our lives. My conversation with the Dowayne regarding Giles, for example, was surely in my personal records. 

Usually the Archives would be kept watched over by one of the clerics, but as everyone had been given the day to rest, the room was empty. Mercifully, it was also unlocked. It was my first time in the Archives, and so I had no idea where to begin. There were shelves filled with volumes, leather bound tombs that numbered in the hundreds. 

I ran my hand along the spine of one of the books, and looked down the line at the long row before me. I picked up one at random and began thumbing through it.

“In the tenth year of our sovereign Janise de la Courcel,   
The marque of Viktor nó Heliotrope was made to completion today. He is the age of two and twenty, and choses to remain a member of our house of his own volition. Henceforth, all monies made by him shall go directly into his own account, which shall be kept in the house for safekeeping. He is required to tithe 15% of his earnings unto Heliotrope to account for his lodgings, and other expenses he may accrue.”

There were dozens of identical entries, describing marques made, and assignations contracted. But Janise de la Courcel was the queen from some two hundred years ago…I was looking in the wrong place if I wanted to know what had transpired between Reneè’s mother and my own. After perusing the shelves for the better part of an hour, I finally found the book chronicling Reneè’s admittance to the house.

“In the seventh year of our sovereign Sidonne de la Courcel,  
The child Reneè has been procured today by our house. She is the four year old child of Ellyn Bouscevre, who bears not the name Heliotrope, but who has her marque half finished by our house. We shall foster the child until the age of ten, and if she is seen fit, she shall remain with us and offer up her services to Naamah if that is her desire. If she is seen unfit for service for whatever reason, or if she lacks the desire to serve in this way, we shall see she is properly fostered after the age of ten elsewhere. She may receive training as a lady’s maid, or some other form of service which she shows an aptitude for.   
Ellyn shall be granted visitation rights until the child reaches her majority.”

I turned the page over quickly, looking for more information, but I had no such luck. That small paragraph was all the information I could find about Reneè in this book. I placed the book back in its place, and then moved through a couple of rows, searching for the volume that would shed some light on Ellyn and her past. It is a truly rare thing for an adept to leave the house she is promised to without making her marque. It is, as I had told Giles the night before, a matter of great shame. 

This must have been quite the scandal when it first transpired…I wondered what had happened. Had Ellyn fled the Night Court? Had she been forcible ejected? I had heard only the rarest stories of either of these occurrences taking place, and never an account from Heliotrope. And whyever had Ellyn brought Reneè back to our house, if she had left for whatever reason? I finally had my first clue to disassembling this mystery, but it had left me more confused than ever. 

I flipped through volume after volume in frustration, until I found another curious entry that gave me pause.

“In the fourty eighth year of our sovereign, Ysandre de la Courcel,   
The adept known as Ellyn nó Heliotrope (henceforth Bouscevre), was asked to remove herself from the house Heliotrope, her marque not yet made. The infraction to cause this expulsion was –“

But then the entry stopped. I blinked rapidly in confusion, but there was no more to be read. The next page had been torn cleanly from the book, the following pages mentioned nothing of Ellyn, or her plight. I breathed heavily and hung my head in despair, someone knew about Ellyn, and Reneè as well, and was determined to keep the truth buried. 

I snapped the text shut with a firm flick of my wrist, and returned it to the shelf. I was going to have to find someone who had been at Heliotrope during Queen Ysandre’s reign, and I was going to need to find out what could have possibly happened to have Reneè’s mother sent from her house in disgrace.


	11. Christìanne

Ten:

It had been some two weeks since the fête at the Orchis House and I had yet to receive any word from Giles. There was a small tug of apprehensiveness upon my heart whenever he entered my thoughts, which was often. In that time I had only had two assignations, one with Lord Melark, and one with a Cruinthe lass who’s hair had shone like burnished copper. Neither assignation had been particularly remarkable, with the exception that Melark seems slightly distant during our time together. I wondered if Reneè’s scheming was starting to take it’s shape somehow. 

The fête was all anyone had been talking about in the days since, the gaiety, the food, the music…It did not stand up to the Longest Night, of course, but we had so much less cause to celebrate during the long summer months. My mind, however, was still locked away in the archives, with it’s musty smells and half kept secrets. I knew that I needed to find someone who had been with the House in that time, but truthfully, I was not certain of where to look. The Archives were again under the watchful eye of the clerics, of course, so there was no more causal browsing through history to be done by me. I was uncertain of how to ask any of my older sisters without arousing suspicion, and for some reason that I couldn’t explain, I felt a strong desire to be surreptitious with my investigation.

Today, though, I needed to turn my attention to other matters. My marque was now half finished, which meant that I was to begin the second half of my training. In all of the thirteen Houses, there comes a point when an adept must think about her future. In some Houses, like Eglantine and Byrony, this time comes much earlier, as an adept is trained from childhood how to best ply the trade in which they have the most natural talent. Eglantine, for example, trains their adepts in the ways of fashion and painting, tumbling and hair artistry. Once an adept has made her marque, she is free to pursue some other occupation is she so choses. Many adepts from Byrony go on to work in our Houses of Coin, or else as bookkeepers in both the Court and for private Institutions as well. 

We in other houses lived our lives quite differently. We waited until our marques rose halfway up our backs, and then we met with an older sibling from our House, who acted as a mentor of sorts. He or she would speak with us privately, and quite regularly. They would find what our talents were, where our interests lie. Some of us would, of course remain in Heliotrope, and continue to serve Naamah in much the same way that we were now, though we would make a significant amount more money than we were now. Others would chose to remain in the House, but as Instructors, and they would be the ones to mold the minds and hearts and loins of the next generation of Her servants. Few, but some, found great piety in Her service, and chose to become priests or priestesses in one of the Temples. One could open a private salon, or live in a small community, as my mother did. There were so many options, and it is truly a blessing that our houses take such care in ensuring that our futures are provided for. One cannot remain a courtesan forever, after all. 

And so I walked through the long hallways of my home, until I reached the private quarters of Christìanne nó Heliotrope, who was to be my mentor. I approached her door, and gave a gentle knock.   
“Come in,” a clear voice called out from inside. 

I turned the brass knob, and opened the door. The inside of her quarters were lovely, thee were large bay windows, giving the whole room a great deal of natural light. There was a large bed in the corner, covered with what looked to be a very soft lavender blanket. In the center of the room were two armchairs seated side by side. They were made of woven wicker, and covered with white cushions. There was a small wicker table placed right in front of them. Sitting in one chair was Christìanne. She had long brown hair, with a few strands of grey streaking through it. It was held together in a braid that hung over her right shoulder gracefully. She wore a long mauve skirt, made of fine linen, and had a swathe of grey linen wrapped about her bust. Her face had a kind and open look to it, and I felt immediately at ease in her presence. She smiled as she rose from her seat, and gave me the kiss of greeting.

“Welcome, Simonne.” Her voice was deep and rich like molasses. She gestured for me to sit in the empty chair, and as I did, she sank slowly back into her own. There was a small pot of tea on the table, along with some pastries. I helped myself to a biscuit as Christìanne poured me a cup of mint tea. 

“So,” she began, “it is time for you to begin thinking about what your life will be like after you have made your marque. It is a very important decision to make, and not one that should be taken lightly.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“There is no need for so much formality here my dear. We are sisters, and while this is a serious thing that we are about, we must be sure to make it an enjoyable experience as well.” 

She sipped at her tea lightly, steam billowing around her face. She held her tea cup in it’s saucer in her right hand without the slightest tremor. Her tranquility was intoxicating. I drank in the sight of her, and already found myself trying to mirror her manner of being.

“Let us begin by getting to know one another. Tell me about yourself Simonne.”

And so I unspooled the tale of my life for her. It had not been a terribly exciting life up until lately. I told her of my modest skill as a coiffeuse, my love of dancing and food, I told her about my friends as well of course. Of Reneè and her vendetta, I said nothing. I wanted to confide in her, but as this was our first meeting, I felt that it wouldn't be appropriate to bring up what might be considered a petty rivalry, no matter how serious I feared Reneè to be. The whole time I was speaking, she smiled, and nodded me along encouragingly. There was something about Christìanne that made me feel I could open up to her. When finally I came to the end of my story, she set her tea back down on the table.

“Very good Simonne. I’m so pleased that we will be spending our time together, you seem like a fine young woman. Now, have you given any thought about what you would like to do once your marque has been made?”

I nodded my head slowly, “Yes, I have. I’m not sure you’ve heard the stories about me,”

“I try not to listen to idle gossip”

“Oh. Well…you see… there is this patron of mine…” 

As eloquently as I could, I explained the situation with Giles to Christìanne. I made no mention of his offer to secret funds to me, but I did tell her of our plan to wed. This time as I spoke, I saw the corners of Christìanne’s mouth turning down slightly. She sat back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. My speech eventually tapered off and we sat in silence for a moment. Christìanne sighed deeply and sat forward again, placing her hands on her knees.

“You must be so grateful to have found love, and at such a young age. But tell me my dear, how do you plan on spending your hours? Shall you continue to serve Naamah?”

I paused. I had always grown up assuming that I would remain in Heliotrope until I reached an age when I wanted to retire, and then set up home with a group of friends, much as my mother had. And then Giles had come along and changed all of my plans. In truth though, I hadn’t thought much about my future beyond my desire for Giles, and of course, Reneè’s threats. I had no idea how a Duchess spent her time. I assumed they lived a life of leisure. I told Christìanne as much, and saw her frown deepen.

“I must say that I am disappointed. You are one of the youngest adepts that I have ever worked with, which is impressive in its own right. I had hoped that you would have slightly more ambition than to simply marry into the gentry and while your life away drinking joie and eating bonbons.”

“Well, if I want to marry then I do not intend to keep to Naamah’s Service. Duc d’Imbert wants to marry me, not just be my Official Consort, so it wouldn’t be meet. How else am I to spend my time in the Siovalese Mountains?”

“As you know, Siovale is where Shemhazai called home, and he is the Companion who gifted our people with the ability to keep written records, and to read them. All knowledge is worth having, he spoke, and that is where the University at Angouleme is to be found. It might be that you decide to garner a proper education of some sort, do you have an interest in books?”

I confessed that while I did, they were of more of a fictional sort of literature, and less instructive. Save, of course, for the books I had studied from since childhood, from whence I had learned my trade.   
“The land in Siovale is fertile, you may find that you enjoy working within the Mother Earth herself. There are many who find reaping and sowing to be most fulfilling.”

It was something to consider certainly, but I had no idea whether or no I had any talent for horticulture in the first place. It was not a thing in which I had any experience at all. 

“Do you know how large your beloved’s manor is?”

When I told her that I did not, she continued, “If his home is large, then you will need to learn how to oversee his retainers, should he have any, as well as any tenants he may have living on his land. To be a Duchess, you must be able to be more for him than merely a window dressing. But again, I must caution you, it is never wise to put all of one’s seeds into a single crockery. It is important that you be able to take care of yourself should you ever have the need.”

I sat, letting her words sink in. I hadn’t thought about any of this before, the realities of being a Lady of court, and not just a Lady but a Duchess, was beginning to take new shape, and real meaning. I had always known that such titles held responsibility, I’m no rube, but I had never considered the day to day duties that went along with it. 

Christìanne’s eyes lightened as she regarded me, seeing that I understood what she was getting at. 

“I think that is very good for a first meeting Simonne. Why don’t you go back to your daily tasks, and we will meet again soon.”

I nodded, and stood, draining my cup of tea and relishing in the fresh, minty taste that it left in my mouth. Christìanne stood as well, and embraced me. 

“Thank you, for listening, and for your advice as well. I promise to think on it.”

“It’s my pleasure. And please do. These are decisions that will affect the rest of your life; and choices, once made, cannot be unmade. No person may restitch their tapestry. But fret not little sister, you do not have to find your path alone. I am here, and I will guide you. We will find your path together.”

 

As I left Christìanne’s quarters, I felt a lightness in my heart with regards to my future. I felt that I had found a true kindred spirit, and that she would help me on this course of self-discovery and growth.


	12. A Private Assignation

Eleven:

The next several days passed slowly. I went about my chores, enjoyed my time with my friends, and tried to keep my mind focused on puzzling out the mystery of Ellyn nó Heliotrope. I was sitting in one of our Common Rooms pretending to read at a copy of “Antinous’s Ode to His Beloved”, while in reality I was letting my thoughts wonder.

One of the young fosterlings came up to me, with a missive in his hand. He kept his eyes modestly down, and handed the letter up to me. It read that I was to attend the Lady Esme Valais in a private assignation in her home. While it is not unheard of for a patron to request an assignation in their own home, it is also not the most common of circumstances. Still, I was informed that it was Lady Valais’ natality that she was celebrating, and she preferred privacy and familiar surroundings. Well and so, for it would do me good to get out of the Night Court for an afternoon, where the days seemed to drag on endlessly.

I went immediately to my quarters and readied myself. I was grateful to find the chamber empty, and I was able to prepare myself in a thrice. 

According to the missive, my assignation was to be at a boarding house on La Rue de la Mer known as Notre Humble Demeure. I had already began trying to work some of Christìanne’s fashion into my own appearance, so I bound my hair back in a simple side braid, and wore a dress that bared my shoulders, much in the same way she had only days earlier. I was dressed simply, if elegantly. The dress was styled much after those in Bhodestan, but with some tell-tale D’Angeline differences. Our fabric is not quite so sheer, for starters, and there is often an intricate pattern of embroidery or beadwork done to embellish the frock. The one I was wearing today was made of an eggplant satin, with a tulle overlay and hundreds of little amethyst stones stitched all over it, making it sparkle.

As was customary for such occasions, I had an escort to take me to the boarding house. But the Lady Valais had signed my contract prior to my arrival, so there was no need for him to accompany me any further than the lobby. The proprietor of the boarding house, Madame Loques, welc0med me inside and walked me to room 39, then left me there.

I knocked on the door to announce my arrival, and found that it was unlocked when I turned the handle. I entered, and found it to be quite lovely, if a bit quaint. The floors were made of hard polished wood, and there was a medium sized bed with a coverlet of deep emerald, made from crushed velvet, and the pillows looked plumb and decadent. There was a little table made from a darker wood than the floor, and two chairs on either side. A carafe of wine was laid out, as well as glasses and a small plate laden with cheeses and fruit.  
I peered about the room, but was unable to the Lady Valais. 

“Hello?” I called out, just a little unsure of myself.   
There was no answer, and I began to wonder is Madame Loques had brought me to the wrong room. I drank in my surroundings, the carved wooden fixtures, the small but artfully rendered paintings of Elua and his Companions. I didn’t dare to take a seat in one of the chairs or upon the bed, it wouldn’t be meet to do so without my patron’s approval.

I had been standing in the room for some few minutes when I heard the door to the bathing chamber open. I immediately fell to my knees and knelt, abeyante. The footstep that came toward me sounded heavier than what I would have expected from a woman, but still I didn’t look up. The steps slowed, and I saw before my eyes two feet that undoubtedly belonged to a man. I felt a small shock, and was certain now that I had indeed been brought to the wrong room. As I rose to my full height, preparing to apologize to this gentleman for disturbing his peace, I was shocked to see a pair of jade green eyes and a generous smile looking down at me. My heart quickened, as I gasped aloud.

“Giles?” I asked, his name catching in my throat. It had been weeks since I had seen or heard from him, and I could scarce believe that he was here, standing before me. Forgetting all composure and training, I flung myself against him, throwing my arms about his neck, and inhaling deeply, luxuriating in his spicy, male scent.

His fingers were in my hair in an instant, clutching it and holding me fast against him.

“It is me, Simonne. Did you truly think I would forget my promise to you? That I would forsake you and all of our plans for the future?”

My eyes shining with unshed tears, I shook my head vigorously, “No, my lord, I did not think you would forsake me. I am just so pleased to see you! I have missed you so.”

We stood there for what felt like an eternity, just embracing one another, and nothing else seemed to exist but us.

When finally Giles pulled back from my, he put his hands gently on my forearms and regarded me with a look of concern, “There was no suspicion regarding your assignation today my love? Our secret and your honor are secure?”

I smiled earnestly. Only Giles would put my welfare above anything else.

“Yes. We are safe. I did not know it would be you myself until you entered the room. As far as everyone else is concerned, I am on a private assignation with the Lady Valais, and that we are celebrating her natality.”

Relief washed over my beloved’s face, and he pulled me close again, kissing the top of my head no small number of times. He guided me over to the table, and pulled a chair out for me to sit in. I took the proffered seat, and waited as he pulled his chair around so that he was sitting directly to my right. 

He kept one hand touching me always, my hair, my arm, my cheek. He fed me morsels of pear covered in honey, crumbs of cheese that was veined with bleu, strong and pungent, but salty and delicious as well. We drank our wine and ate our meal, exchanging few words but mostly staring into one another’s eyes. More than once Giles professed his love to me, and I would have been remiss had I not responded in kind.

I told him that I had begun my secondary training, and told him what little I knew so far of Christìanne. He listened attentively, and asked me to tell him all about her, and what course of study I would be pursuing. I was hesitant to tell him the extent to which I was planning on learning about running an estate, on being a Lady of Means. I knew that we had exchanged promises to one another, but our relationship was still o new, and fragile, that I didn’t want to frighten him off. I spoke mostly about Christìanne, and how mesmerized I was by the way she carried herself.

“Lady Valais” had contracted with me for the entirety of the evening, so we were in no hurry, which was a nice change of pace from our last encounter at the fête. Only when the last of the wine was drained, and the final morsel of fruit swallowed did Giles take me by the hand and lead me across the boudoir. He unpinned the broach that held my dress in place, and took his time unwrapping me, as though I were a gift on the Longest Night. He drew out my undressing in a languid, tantalizing manner. 

I could scarcely stand the suspense of it, I rested my naked body against one of the high bedposts as Giles carefully folded my dress, and laid it on the table. He undid the wooden toggles on his doublet and shrugged his shoulders out of it, revealing his fine, muscular torso. He removed his trousers as well, and his need was already evident.

He walked across the room to me, taking long impatient strides. He raked his fingers through my hair on the back of my head and kissed me with a passion that was unlike himself. Usually, Giles liked to take his time with me, to kiss me gently until my body warmed to him. Today he demanded that I yield to him instantly. I was surprised by his ardor, but even more surprised by how well I responded to it. I craved his touch, and his mouth crushed against mine, his tongue seeking mine out.

His warm hand cupped my breast and worked my already hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger. I shunted my hips against his, whimpering softly as I did so. Ah, Elua, did I need him inside of me. Gods be praised, he did not make me wait long. Using his free hand, Giles took my knee and raised it up, that he might have freer access. He slid inside of me, and it felt like coming home. My desire rose sweetly, until it was nigh unto unbearable, and then my pleasure crested over me, so that I was awash with the sensation. I felt my hot, wet sex clamp down onto him, and we came together in a chorus of ecstasy.

After, we made our way finally to the bed, which was indeed as comfortable as it looked.

“I love you Simonne,” he told me simply, “I love you for your kindness, and your beauty. I love you for your humor and your gentle spirit. You are, by far, the best thing that has ever happened in my life, and I want nothing so much as to come home to you every night and gaze upon your beautiful face.”

“And I love you Giles. You have shown me the true meaning of Elua’s teachings, and I feel things with you that I had never anticipated feeling. I love you for your good heart, and your sharp wit. You are a good man Giles, and I am so very lucky to have found a place in your heart.”

And on we went in this fashion, late into the night. I could tell of all the things we whispered, the promises we made and the honeyed words we exchanged, but I fear it would be of no interest to anyone but us in truth. Suffice it to say, our hearts were warmed along with our bed that night. And our bed was kept quite warm indeed. When finally we fell asleep, we were satiated in both soul and body. The weight of Giles’ arm draped over my body was unfamiliar, but not at all unwelcome. I slept better than I ever had that night in his arms, and the morning came far too soon. We bid each other adieu, but Giles promised to see me at least once more before he returned to Siovale for the season. He handed me also a small purse. It was small, but the coin inside of it was gold and I was certain that he had put himself in constraints to give it to me. I thanked him as much as I could, and kissed him goodbye fervently. Our next visit could not come quickly enough


	13. A Conversation and a Confrontation

Twelve:

I arrived back at Heliotrope feeling refreshed and ready to face anything, even Reneè. I entered my chambers, and was pleased to see that my friends were in the room at the moment as well. I walked through the door lightly, and collapsed onto my small bed with a lack of grace that was uncharacteristic for myself. I simply flopped down, with a large smile on my face.

Immediately, both girls came over to my bed and sat alongside me. 

“So…how was your assignation with Lady Valais?” asked Madeline

“It must have gone well, if appearances are to be any indication,” Cassandra chimed in.

I took a long, deep breath. I wanted so very much to tell them about my arrangement with Giles, and about the wonderful night we had had. How safe and warm I had slept in his arms. I yearned to share with them the promises we had exchanged. The words were fair bubbling up inside of me, but with great effort I managed to clamp down on them. It was imperative that Giles and I kept our relationship a secret, lest I be disciplined for disobeying my Dowayne’s orders. I knew not specifically what kind of punishment I would receive, for such things were not widely discussed. For all I knew, the love Giles and I shared was an enigma within my house, and it was entirely possible that there were no strict protocols in order for such a situation. 

And so, I did as my training had long taught me, I painted on a pleasant smile, and spoke in sweet, buttery falsehoods to my closest confidantes. 

“The Lady Valais was l0vely, of course. We were celebrating her thirty sixth natality, and our time together was wonderful, quite memorable. She had all manner of delicious things to eat, and to drink as well of course. She was a most…demanding lover, and so I am rather spent, as I’m sure you can see.”

I quirked a smile at this, and the other girls giggled behind their hands. 

“And look!” With a flourish, I pulled the purse of coin from my reticule and upended it onto my bed. I saw the girls’ eyes grow round taking in so much gold at once. 

“Your time must have been quite memorable indeed for the Lady Valais to have been so very generous with you!”` 

I flashed the girls a quick wink and a smile, allowing them to come to their own conclusions. I heaved a great sigh then and leaned my back against the wall.

“I am fortunate that she was so generous, as I’ve had precious few assignations as of late. Whatever rumors Reneè has been spreading, it has been working.”

Madeline rested her hand on my knee and squeezed it gently. 

“It can’t be all Reneè’s fault…” she started.

“Are you saying that the fault is mine?”

She blushed deeply, and stammered out her reply, “N..n..n..no, of course not Simonne. I’m sure that you’ve done nothing wrong…” she paused and regained her composure, “All I’m saying is that I can’t believe Reneè would be quite so vindictive!”

“Madeline, I told you what she said to me before the fête when we were at Eglantine House, and now my patrons are disappearing? Do you think that is a mere coincidence?”

“Not coincidence, no…and I do believe that Reneè is spreading rumors about you…I just can’t imagine that she could willingly destroy your reputation and prospects.”

I ran both my hands through my hair in frustration. I always knew that Madeline had more sweetness than sense, but this was ridiculous. It was at this moment that I realized that the time had come to tell them what I had found in the archives. I had meant to keep my investigation to myself, but I had done so for as long as seemed wise. If it was to be a war between Reneè and I, well, it would be best for me to keep them informed. 

So, I recounted all that I had learned in the archives. That Ellyn has been expelled from Heliotrope for unknown reasons, and that Reneè had been fostered here, apart from her mother. I told the girls that I had been mulling over my findings since the fête, but I had yet to come to any conclusions. 

Upon hearing my account, Madeline could no longer deny that Reneè had motive, at the very least. Cassandra, who had been quiet for most of this time, spoke up, saying that she would put her mind to work on the situation and offer me any assistance she could. Well and good, for I had more respect for her help than Madeline’s. 

Cassandra and Madeline both had assignations that evening, and so after our daily chores were done, I was left in our chambers by myself. I sat, dreaming idly of Giles when Reneè walked in. She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder, and narrowed her eyes in my direction. 

“So, I have heard tell that you had an assignation with the Lady Valais last night.”

“Are you merely repeating idle gossip or do you have a point?”

“Oh, no point. I just hope you enjoyed it while you had the chance. It is likely to be your last for quite some time.”

I could feel my chest getting tight as she spoke. Again, she was threatening me and my income. She was threatening my future with Giles. And I had done nothing to her. 

“I know about Ellyn.” I said, my voice just above a whisper.

“What did you say?”

“I said I know about Ellyn. I know that she was expelled from Heliotrope. But what I don’t know is what she has to do with me, and if that’s why you hate me so much. What did I do Reneè? What did I do to make you hate me so?”

Reneè glared at me, unshed tears brimming her eyes. Her jaw was set, and her gaze was made of steel. 

“You know nothing.” Reneè hissed, “And I will destroy you!”

With that, Reneè turned on her heel and ran from the chamber. I sat up on my bed, a single candle the only light in the room, and wept into my arms.


	14. Christianne Part Deux

Thirteen:

Days passed, and it was time for me to meet once again with Christìanne. While the first visit is usually one of greeting, traditionally the second time is when the mentor shares some of her past with her adepts, that I might know of her own path, and see if it is the right one for me to also follow down. If it was not, or if there was something about Christìanne or her past that somehow offended me, I could be placed with another, although that was not a concern that I had presently. 

I went to Christìanne’s door, and felt it yield to my touch as I knocked upon it, causing it to open slightly.

Her amber eyes lit up with pleasure at my arrival, and she warmly embraced me.

“Simonne, I am so please to see you again.”

Her hair this time was twined up in a bun on top of her head, and held there with a comb made of sharpened bone. Other than that, she looked much the same as before, in her long flowing skirt and top, which I assumed to be a sort of informal uniform for her. 

Ah Elua, did I envy her grace. We say on the same chairs we had before, and broke our fast with tea and pastries, as well as some cheese. 

“Today, I will be telling you about my own history, since you were so kind as to share your own with me on our last visit. I hope that you will find it interesting, and that you will find it meet that we continue working together.”

I settled back into my chair and sipped gingerly at my tea, which was hot yet and still needed to cool off. 

“Like you, I was born into the service of Naamah. I was born and raised, however, in Dahlia House. We were reared with the belief that Naamah gave herself to the King of Persis with the regal bearing of a queen, and we are taught from a young age that the way one carries themselves is of the utmost importance. 

In addition to typical duties performed by an adept in training, we in Dahlia were taught to balance a book on our heads from almost our first steps. My mother and her mother before had come from Dahlia, and there were high hopes for me within my house. My father was also an adept, but from Balm House. I did rather well in my training, I have never had much of a problem putting myself forth in a graceful manner. I found that I had rather simpler tastes than that of my sisters though, who liked to adorn themselves in gaudy fashions such as gold silks and jewels. I have always been fonder of more organic textiles, and natural looks. 

Still, my training was not for nothing. We in Dahlia are taught to treat every gesture as poetry in motion, and to make our patron feel as though they are the most important person in the room, a skill used here in Heliotrope as well. I knew from rather early on that I would likely not remain in Dahlia…as I said, I always felt rather out of place there. My mother was a great trend setter, and my father in Balm was renowned for his kind and yielding heart. I never faltered in my dedication to Naamah though, and always knew I would serve her for as long as I lived. 

When it came time for me to make my debut, I spoke with the Dowayne of Heliotrope, and pled my case to her, that I be granted admission here instead. I count myself blessed that she accepted me, as I have found Heliotrope to be the home I always dreamed of, and the service I perform here is as I have always believed Naamah’s service to be, that of the ultimate love and compassion.”

She paused for a moment, and took a small bite of a raspberry financier cookie, then dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a mauve handkerchief, wiping away the crumbs there. Truly, she did move as though she was a work of art, and her training in Dahlia had served her well all these years.

“How long ago did you come to Heliotrope, if I may ask?”

“Oh my, it was so long ago now…well let me see, I came to Heliotrope near the end of Queen Ysandre’s reign, so I’ve been here for some…23 years now?”

My head began reeling involuntarily. Ellyn had been expelled from Heliotrope only 20 years ago, which means that no only had Christìanne been here at the time, but she would have been a working adept, and probably would have known everything that transpired. I bit down hard on my tongue to keep from asking her questions about Ellyn. I would at some point, certainly, but not just yet. We were still too new of acquaintances, and she still had the power to terminate our relationship. I knew that I needed to bide my time, and ask of these things at a later date.

“So, I took my vows within Heliotrope in my 17th year, and had made my marque by the time I turned 23. It may not be as prestigious a pedigree as some other adepts, or even as remarkable as your own, but it is one that I am proud of. I re-dedicated myself to Naamah after my marque was complete, and continued serving her until was 27. I have had no favored patrons, not many in our house do, but neither have I lacked for enjoyable company. I have seen many of my sister go off and form lasting unions, for a life of service is not all of us.”

She hesitated for a moment at this, as though unsure of how to continue, though this was a speech she must have given many times before. I wondered if it was my relationship with Giles that gave her pause, or if it might be something more. As quickly as she had stopped though, she regained her train of thought and continued,

“I have loved my life here, and have found great fulfillment in passing along the wisdom I have learned through my years of experience. Some of the girls I have trained have remained in Heliotrope upon making their marques, while others have chosen other lives. It would be my honor to help you along your path, Simonne, if you would find it agreeable. The final decision is yours of course, as it is your future we would be discussing”

The choice was not a difficult one to make. I had known that I wanted Christìanne to lead me in the next stage of my training from our first meeting, long before I became aware that she might hold a key to Reneè’s past, and my potential happiness with Giles. But now, with my desire to unlock the mysteries of the past stronger than ever, I knew beyond doubt that there could be no one else better suited to teaching me. 

“Christìanne, I would love nothing more than for you to be my mentor, and to help me to prepare for my life after my service has ended.”

As gracefully as a swan, Christìanne stood and embraced me yet again. She kissed the top of my head, then held my back and regarded me warmly.

“I am so glad you’ve agreed my dear. I look forward to us beginning our work together.”


	15. The True Dilemma

Fourteen:

The bell signaling that it was lunch began to toll, and Christìanne and I left her chambers and made our way to the dining hall, where I joined my friends and tried to enjoy as much of my meal as I could, but inside my mind was racing. 

Our lunch today was light, grilled fish with herbs, white rice with butter and honeyed carrots. The food was delicious, as it always was, but in truth I barely tasted a bite. Reneè was at an assignation this afternoon, so I had plenty of leave to speak openly with Madeline and Cassandra about my meeting with Christìanne.

I told them about her past, coming from Dahlia house, and how graceful and beautiful she was, before I moved on to more interesting subjects, like how long she had been in Heliotrope. Cassandra’s eyes went wide as the revelation, and immediately suggested that I go and ask her about Ellyn and her expulsion from our house. 

Madeline, however, advocated caution, saying that it was better to wait and see how our relationship evolved before bringing Christìanne into the whirlwind that my life had become.

“That’s what the mentors are here for though, is to offer us guidance! What good is it to have a mentor if Simonne doesn’t utilize her?”

“I still urge you to wait. I mean, how much longer can Reneè carry on like this? She must be growing tired of this endless battle between you. It’s been months now, and I just don’t believe that anyone can hold such a deep grudge for anyone for so long. She can’t truly want to destroy you, what real gain is there for her?”

“Her patrons,” Cassandra said flatly.

I couldn’t deny it, and neither could Madeline. I had once been the foremost adept of the Heliotrope house, but aside from my visit with “The Lady Valais” nearly a week earlier, I hadn’t had an assignation in far too long. I had no idea what kind of rumors Reneè had been spreading about me, but they had indeed proved effective. At my current rate, I was unlikely to ever make my marque at all, and my need for Christìanne’s guidance would cease to matter. 

I made up my mind that at my next opportunity, I would go to Christìanne and ask her about Ellyn, and what, if anything, she knew.


	16. A Rebuffal

Fifteen:

My days passed rather slowly, with no assignations to fill my time, I mostly helped the other adepts do their hair, and I spent a good amount of time reading. I found myself enraptured by the Ysandrian Cycle, written so long ago by Thelesis de Mornay, depicting the rise to power of Ysandre de la Courcel, and the heroic adventures of Phèdre nó Delaunay de Montrève, who’s story everyone knows. I had no word from Giles, and for that I was sad, though it was not entirely unexpected. I knew that he was busy at court, conducting a Duc’s affairs. I also knew that it would be difficult for him to secret any kind of communication to me, unless it was under the guise of an assignation. And it was far too much to hope for that I could see him for another assignation so soon. 

Finally, enough time had passed that I felt comfortable returning to Christìanne. I wanted to be circumspect, so I decided not to make an official appointment with her, and rather went directly to her chambers on my own. 

When I knocked on her door and she answered me, she seemed surprised to see me, but glad of it nonetheless. Even in her lounging wear, Christìanne looked the part of an ex-Dahlia adept. Rather than her typical flowing skirt, she had on billowy pants with wide legs that bunched at the ankles, much the fashion in Khebbel-im-Akkad, and a wide swathe of fabric wound about her torso, but revealing the flatness of her stomach. 

“Simonne!” she exclaimed, drawing me near and giving me the kiss of greeting, “it is lovely to see you, did we have a visit scheduled that I forgot about?”

“No, I hope it is alright that I came to see you uninvited?”

“My dear, my door is always open to you. Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable.”

She held the door wide open for me, and I walked in. We sat, not in the chairs as we usually did, but on a small love seat, our knees touching comfortably. 

“What can I do for you today? Has something happened that you wish to discuss?”

“Yes, actually. This may sound odd, but…” and with that I told Christìanne about what had been happening between Reneè and myself. I laid it all bare to her, from the start of my story where Reneè had gone to Dowayne Perrette and told her of my love for Giles to her threats at the Eglantine house, culminating with my current position: a battered reputation, and no patrons. I even told her of my sneaking into the archives and my discovery of Ellyn. 

Christìanne nodded along, listening intently and with great concern as I told her about Reneè, but the moment I mentioned Ellyn, her back straightened and a shadow crossed over her face.   
“I, I’m not sure that I can help you Simonne.”

I was more than surprised at her rebuffal, and told her as much.

“But, you’re my mentor. You are the only one who can help me! My mother, Calliope, do you know her? She knows something about this all too, and has also refused to help me. Christìanne, you were here at Heliotrope when all of this happened. I have no one else to turn to, and I must know why Reneè is so hell bent on destroying my life!”

Christìanne stood abruptly, and began walking back towards the door, “Simonne, I’m sorry, but I have another engagement that I must prepare for. I’ve only just remembered. Perhaps if we had a formal visit set up, I could have spent more time with you today, but as it is I must ask you to leave.”

I rose from the love seat, my legs shaking slightly, “if I make an official appointment…”

“I will send for you when I am able to meet again. I’m sorry again my dear, but I really do have many things I need to do.”

She gave me the kiss of departure, and then gently but firmly closed the door in my face. 

I waked back to my room numbly. Far from feigning ignorance, or flat out refusing to aid me, Christìanne had simply shown me the door. I wasn’t sure who else I could turn to at this point, I was feeling desperate and alone, which I’m sure is how Reneè wanted me to feel.


	17. A Deream of the Future

Though it felt like an eternity, I wager it was only another week before I got my next assignation from “Lady Valais”. I was elated at the thought of seeing Giles, but after everything I had been through lately, I was feeling far from amorous. I was escorted again to the Notre Humble Demeure, and found myself once more in the same room we had shared before. 

This time Giles was waiting for me when I arrived. 

“Simonne!” he exclaimed as I entered the room, and held his arms out to me. I rushed towards him, and fell into his embrace, feeling his soft tunic against my cheek, and his hands in my hair. Eventually we parted, and moved ourselves to a large chaise lounge by an open window. 

“Tell me everything my love, tell me how you have been.”

I was reluctant to share with him all the sordid details of my rivalry with Reneè, for fear that he might find it petty. Besides, there were more important matters to discuss between us. 

Instead I told him about my second meeting with Christìanne; or rather I told him as much as I saw meet to tell him. I shared with him her history, as I had with my sisters before, her rise through Dahlia to Heliotrope, which accounted for her regal bearing. I told him also about the things she had discussed with me on our first visit, about the running of his manor, and about how important it was for an adept to be able to stand on her own two feet, before making any commitments to a lover. 

I told him that, while I loved him dearly, we needed to discuss our future in real terms, and make real plans. To my delight, Giles nodded his head with enthusiastic agreement.

“I have been thinking the very same things, but was unsure of how to broach the subject with you. I am so glad that you brought it up first, for I feel that it is important that we be open with one another in all matters, and of course that we have a solid plan for how we should spend our lives once your marque is made and we can be together. But first, I think it is only right that I tell you a little about myself, and the life that you will find waiting for you once you’ve found your freedom.

You see, my dear, it is true and well known that I am a Duc, but my finances are…slightly complicated. My father was a spendthrift, who managed his money, my inheritance, rather poorly. I still retain my estate in Siovale, and collect rents from my tenants, of which there are several. But I live a simple life when I am away from court. I have few servants, I mostly prefer to take care of the day to day running of my home myself. Of course I have a steward, who runs the place in my stead while I am here, but in my heart I yearn to return to the mountains where I was raised.”

“Why do you spend so much time in the City of Elua, then, if you so prefer the life of a Land Owner?”

“To see you, of course,” came his simple reply. 

I peppered his face with kisses for that remark, I couldn’t help myself. 

“I hope you can be happy with a life that is somewhat…less luxurious and exciting than the one you live now. I wish I could offer you more, gods know that you deserve it, but alas the most valuable thing I have to offer you is my heart.”

“Oh Giles, you silly, silly man. Do you not already know that your heart is the most valuable thing in the world to me? I follow Blessed Elua’s Precept above all other things, and care not for your title, or your estate, or however much gold you do or do not have on your coffer. All that matters to me is that you love me, and you say that is the case.”

“It is the case, my darling Simonne, I love you with all of my heart. You cause the sun to rise with every smile you bestow upon me, you make me want to dance when there is no music to be heard. I love you even as Elua’s companions loved him.”

My heart swelled near to bursting with his words. 

“So, tell me my love, how does the wife of a Duc spend her time?”

“Well, as I’ve said, I have few household servants, but my wife would be in charge of the staff of course, maintaining the daily routine of the manor, as well as helping to keep my tenants happy. There are the gardens and the kitchens, which you would have complete authority over. I want a marriage of equals Simonne, I do not wish to be your lord and master. It is my greatest wish that we be partners in everything, all decisions will be made together.”

“You trust me with such responsibility?”

“You will need to learn somewhat about the running of a household, to be sure. But I have faith that you will catch on quickly, you have always shown yourself to have a keen mind, and I have no doubts that you will be an amazing Duchess d’Imbert.”

Duchess, the word rang in my ears, and I felt my face flush. I had thought of marrying Giles a thousand times, of course, but the implications of becoming his wife had not fully resonated within me until I heard my future title aloud. 

“And what of your own plans Simonne, do you wish to continue on serving Naamah once your marque is made?”

I paused for a moment at the question, it was not one that I had expected, though I probably should have. 

“What…what are your thoughts on the matter my love?”

“I believe that to serve Naamah is one of the greatest gifts of our people. It is an honor that Elua and his companions gave to the people of Terre D’Ange, that we might be closer to them in all things. And I would never want to keep you from worshiping as you see fit. 

At the same time, however, I would be lying if I said that, once wed, I would want you all to myself. I am not a jealous man Simonne, I’m sure you know that by now. And if it truly your wish to continue to serve Naamah after our nuptials, I will not stand in your way. But in truth, I would be reluctant to share you with any others.”

I beamed at his response, for it was perfect. He had made his feelings about the matter clear, while still giving me the freedom to make my own choice. An equal partnership indeed. I slipped my hand into his, twining our fingers together.

“Once my marque is made, Giles, I will have no need for any other in my bed ever again. I have loved serving Naamah, I truly have. It has been a gift many times over to share the love I have in my heart, and to make my patrons feel the love that Elua preached. But I have also been blessed beyond reckoning that I have found you. No, my love, I have no wish to continue on in Naamah’s service once my marque is made. I want you, and only you, for the rest of my life.”

Giles’ face broke out into a brilliant smile at my declaration, and he squeezed my hand and pulled me close, so that I was leaning on him again. He loosened his hand from mine and put his arm around my waist instead. I rested my head on his shoulder and sighed happily.

“What are your feelings about children?”

The question escaped my lips before I even knew I was asking it.

Giles hesitated, but not for long. He had been thinking about this himself, I wagered.

“I know that it is customary for a couple to light a candle to Eisheth during their wedding. But, many couples also have a longer courtship period than we do, and certainly a more traditional one. I was hoping that we could postpone the lighting of our candle for a time, not forever, of course, for I want nothing more than to have a house filled with our children; but I want some time for the two of us together, alone. I hope for us to have no small number of adventures on our own before we embark on the greatest adventure of all, parenthood.”

“I could not have said it better myself. I too want to have many children, a little Duc or Duchess to be our heir, but also siblings and friends. I’m not averse to fostering, should we ever gain the prominence in court that the peers of the realm would entrust their children with us. But I agree, we need to have some time to ourselves first, that we may truly get to know one another, for we have had to get to expedite our courtship, due to circumstances.”

We sat for a time, not moving. After a few minutes there came a knock on the door, and Giles stood and opened it. In came a delicious meal, with spiced pheasant and roasted vegetables, their edges black and salty. There was a small tureen of asparagus soup, and crusty bread to dredge in it. A large carafe of wine was also on the cart, with 2 crystal glasses. 

Giles thanked the girl who had brought us our meal, and she left. We moved to the small wooden table on the other side of the room and ate it happily. After we were through, Giles took me by the hand to the large, soft bed with the fluffy blankets piled high.

“Would it be alright, my dear, if we forego our usual pleasures this evening? Please do not think that I am nay less enamored with you for making such a suggestion, quite the contrary. But, after our lengthy conversation, I find that there is nothing I would rather have right now than for you to lie in my arms, with your head on my chest, that I may stroke your hair until we both fall asleep.”

I told him that that sounded wonderful, which it did. We both undressed, laying our clothes in neatly folded piles, and then climbed under the blankets. The summer’s heat had broken and a fall chill was setting in. We snuggled close to one another, our legs wrapped together like the roots of a tree connecting us. I laid my head on his downy chest, and true to his word, Giles stroked my hair until my breathing steadied, and I drifted off into a peaceful oblivion.


	18. Answers

I waited impatiently for Christìanne to summon me to her quarters once more. It didn’t feel appropriate for me to request a meeting with her after the way that things had ended the last time, yet I yearned to see her again. Finally, about a week after my assignation with Giles, I received a missive requesting my presence. 

When I entered Christìanne’s chambers, the ambiance felt somewhat different than usual. Normally when I entered, there was soft music playing, and the windows were open wide, allowing the sun to shine in. today however, it was quite, the curtains were drawn, and the familiar smell of lavender incense was nowhere to be found. Christìanne was dressed differently than usual as well. Gone were her usually flowery, expressive clothes. Instead, she was wearing the everyday shift of a Heliotrope adept, which was what I was wearing as well.

As always, Christìanne welcomed me with the kiss of greeting and an embrace, though this too felt more remote that her usual warmth.

“Simonne, dear, it is good to see you. Thank you so much for responding to my note, and for coming to me so quickly.”

“It is my pleasure. I would have come sooner, but…”

“I understand. I was rather blunt the last time you were here, and I must apologize for me brashness. You brought up memories that I have not though about in quite some time.”

So,” I began tentatively, “you did know Ellyn?”

For a moment, I was afraid that Christìanne was going to send me away again, or worse, end our relationship entirely. But instead, she took a deep breath and nodded her head.

“Yes, I knew Ellyn, Ellynore was her full name. And I know what happened all those years ago. Frankly, I do not believe that it is my story to tell, but I have been in touch with your mother, and she has asked that I be the one to enlighten you with all the sordid details.”

She gestured for me to sit on the love seat, and we sat next to one another, our knees touching just as they had the last time I visited. I hoped that this time would go better.

“I was best friends with your mother, Calliope, when we were girls here. She was the first person that I met when I came here from Dahlia, and we hit it off immediately. We are the same age, and we took our vows together. Ellyn was about two years younger than us both, but it was plain to all that she was devoted to Calliope. She helped your mother prepare for her assignations, the three of us would sit and gossip about our patrons long after our candles were to be snuffed. Your mother doted on Ellyn in return, helping her to do her hair, lending her garments, and secreting away sweets for her. Only I knew the true extent of their relationship.

You think that you are such an oddity Simonne, for falling in love with one of your patrons. Did you never consider that your mother also may have loved someone that was taboo?”

I looked blankly at Christìanne, not quite understanding what she was saying. Eventually though, realization began to dawn over me, and my mouth gaped open.

“You don’t mean…you couldn’t…”

“I do. Your mother and Reneè’s were secret lovers.”

I leaned back in my chair. Such a thing, well it was unheard of in the Night Court. Never, in all of my suspicions, had I even considered that Ellyn and my mother had had any kind of relationship like this. I had thought that they might have been fierce rivals, like Reneè and myself, that my mother had sullied her reputation, or caused her some kind of bodily harm. But this…it was nigh unto inconceivable. 

“Of course, they both knew that there was nothing they could do about their love, apart from the occasional tryst, which I helped them to arrange. Your mother rose in the ranks of our house, while Ellyn floundered slightly, she was too soft for this kind of work truly, and once bitten by love, she had no room in her heart for any other besides Calliope. It was clear, once Ellyn was in her 19th year, that she ought never to have taken her vows. She received official reprimand on at least two occasions for being less than ardent with her patrons. Calliope and I tried to guide her, to help her along that she might see the beauty of the work we do here in Heliotrope, that she might find some peace in it; but it was to little avail. Ellyn loved your mother. And while Calliope loved her back, that I know as surely as I know anything else, she did not let her feeling interfere with her duty to Naamah, to our house. 

Finally, there came a day when Ellyn could stand it no longer, and she begged Calliope to run away with her. They formulated a plan, where they would leave Heliotrope on the Longest Night, and leave the City of Elua altogether, for they knew they would be anathema were their love to be discovered. They planned to run off to Namarre together, if I recall correctly, and planned to ply their trade independently there until they could afford a small home of their own, by the river there. 

I do not know who told the Dowayne of their plans. It wasn’t myself, for I didn’t even know about it until the night everything transpired. But somehow their plot was discovered, and as the Longest Night drew near, Calliope grew hesitant about following through. She had been raised in Heliotrope, as had her mother and her mother’s mother, going back some 5 generations. Ellyn too came from good Heliotrope stock, but as I have said, she loved your mother too dearly, and too fully, for her own good. On the Longest Night, Calliope came to the room we shared, and confessed to me their plan, which of course shocked me. She sat on my bed, and wept, while I held her in my arms, as sisters do. 

Calliope missed their rendezvous at the Chapel for Star-Crossed Lovers, and it was just as well that she did, for Dowayne Janyce nó Heliotrope, our Dowayne at the time, was waiting for them to arrive. She caught Ellyn upon her arrival, and brought her back to Heliotrope immediately for questioning. 

Janyce had been given no identifying details of the two adepts who were planning on sneaking away, and Ellyn was thoroughly interrogated by the Dowayne, as well as several other Elders. But she refused to give Calliope up, so strong was her love. Needless to say, the Dowayne was incensed at Ellyn’s silence. She was declared anathema, and was promptly expelled from Heliotrope. 

I do not know what became of Ellyn after that, I heard tell that she went to Caerdicca Unitas, though I have no idea why. The Caerdicci are not overly fond of Naamah’s service, and tend to look down on her servants as though we were the lowly whores in cheap brothels like they have there. Mayhap she sought shelter within the walls of Asherat-of-the-Sea, or in the Little Court. We were forbidden from contacting her, just as she was us. 

Your mother grieved heavily for Ellyn, though it was in secret. She coupled with your father the very next year, I think to try and forget the grief that that evening held for her. Our friendship remained steadfast, and as I said, it was she who bade me tell you her tale. I think that it may still weigh on her heart, and the telling of it would have been tremendously difficult for her. 

I hope that you are able to forgive your mother, as she merely lacked the strength to do what you are in your own way, following Blessed Elua’s Precept. It is my wish to help you to be with Giles in the end, and in doing so, help you in the way I was unable to help Calliope and Ellyn so many years ago.”

I sat in my seat, dumbly. I could hardly wrap my mind around the tale that Christìanne had just told me. That my mother had loved another adept, and none other than Reneè’s own mother, it was shocking! Somehow I found my way to standing, and fumbled my way towards the door.

“I..I must go..” I said, my voice thick with a combination emotion and confusion. 

“Simonne, please don’t leave like this, I know that there must be much on your mind, things you might wish to discuss…?”

“No.” I said flatly, “there is nothing to discuss right now. My mother had love, and she threw it away for her vows. And now Reneè has made a vow of her own, which is to destroy me at all costs. Now I must take to my own counsel for a time, and make my own decisions.”

Remembering my manners, I swept a gentle curtsey, “Thank you, Christìanne, for sharing with me what must be painful memories for you to relive. It was surely a time of great turmoil here in Heliotrope. Now, if you’ll please excuse me…”  
Christìanne stepped out of my way, smooth as the river. I stumbled towards the door gracelessly, and could not tell you how I found my way back to my own room. 

Once I was finally laying on my own bed, with its soft blankets that reminded me so of those at Notre Humble Demeure, I did what I had so often been doing as of late and I cried myself to sleep.


	19. The Reckoning

The chill in the air marked that fall was indeed upon us, and I knew that the changing seasons meant that Giles was soon to depart the city for his home in Siovale at the d’Imbert Estate. I waited anxiously for days for his missive to reach me, and when it finally came I was nearly beside myself. Finally, there would be something to be joyful about!

True enough, we would be saying our farewells until the spring, when he was set to return to the City, but after the news Christìanne had given me about two weeks earlier, I was in great need of good cheer. I dressed myself carefully, telling Madeline and Cassandra that “Lady Valais” would be leaving the City for the season, and so I wanted to look special for her. Cassandra, whose hands were steadier than my own, helped me apply kohl to my eyes, and carmine to my cheeks and lips. I needed no help coiffing my hair, and I made quite an elaborate show of it, similar to how I had done it for the Ceres fête months earlier. I wore my favorite frock, the one I had worn on my first assignation with Giles. It was made of raw silk from Chin, and the skirt was dyed a deep plum, while the bust was a gentle mauve with seed pearls spread delicately across it. 

As usual, I was escorted to the Notre Humble Demeure and left at the front door. Strangely, Giles had chosen a different room for us to stay in this evening, well and good though, that we might not attract attention. 

The door was unlocked, so I went in slowly. I was so filled with anticipation at seeing my beloved again, if just for this night, if only to bit one another adieu until spring.

“Giles?” I called out, my voice echoing in the cavernous chamber, “Are you here?”

The room appeared to be empty, so I sat down on a chaise lounge, this one made of crimson velvet, where the one in the previous room had been emerald. 

How strange, I thought, Giles usually has refreshments waiting for us on the table, but this one is bare. I wonder what he is about…

But no more had I had the chance to think those words, when I heard the door begin to creak open. I stood as quickly as I was able, and tried to tamp down on the feeling of exuberance that was nearly bursting from me. It would not do to be overly enthusiastic, but oh gods was it hard. 

Then the door opened, and Dowayne Perrette nó Heliotrope walked through the door, her hair like burnished gold. My stomach clenched hard, and dropped like a stone. I felt my knees falter, and I braced myself on the chaise lounge before lowering myself slowly back onto it.

“Simonne,” she began, her voice deep and grave, “what do you think you are doing here?”

“I…I am here for my assignation with, with the Lady Valais?” even as the words left my mouth, I knew that Perrette knew them for a lie.

“You have been discovered Simonne. Please do not try and make things worse by being false with me now.”

I swallowed hard, feeling the tears well up in my eyes, “how did you find out?”

“One of your sisters informed me. She had heard about your frequent assignations with the Lady Valais and made a few inquiries. Imagine her surprise to find that the ‘Lady Valais’ was merely a pseudonym for the Duc Giles d’Imbert. Fortunately, she came to me with this information right away, in order to keep the name Heliotrope from being scandalized.”

Even before she walked into the room, I knew which “sister” had sold me out. In walked Reneè, with a look of pain that was so saccharine, it could only be hiding her true pleasure at finally catching me in the act.   
“Sister,” she started, in a tone that matched her expression, “I had hoped that I would be wrong. I can hardly fathom that you would break your vows in such a way…and betray the sacred trust of Heliotrope. How could you do this?” her voice quavered slightly at the end, and a single tear ran down her cheek. Gods she was good. A regular mendicant indeed. 

“Do you have anything to say in your own defense Simonne?” 

I looked down at my feet, and shook my head forlornly, “No, Dowayne. All I can say is that I could not help but follow my heart, and Blessed Elua’s precept.”

“You have followed it to your own destruction then. I warned you. I warned you Simonne, of the consequences of breaking your vows, of disobeying my direct orders,” she paused for a moment, carefully weighing her words, “it pains me greatly to do this Simonne. But as of this moment, you are declared anathema to Heliotrope and the Court of the Night Blooming Flowers. You are no longer a servant of Naamah, and you are barred from ever seeking refuge within our walls again.”

Her words hit me like a ton of rocks. Anathema. Like Ellyn. I could never go home. I would never have my marque complete. I was shamed. My mother was shamed. Christìanne would be shamed. And Reneè would get exactly what she had always wanted.

“You may not come back to the house to collect your belongings,” Perrette continued, “any personal effects will be sent to you once you have found lodging of your own. You may send a missive to the house informing us of your new accommodations, and we will send your things forthwith. Do you have any questions?”

“No, my lady.”

“Then all is settled here. The room has been paid for the evening, you may remain here tonight. Tomorrow, you are on your own.”

With that, Dowayne Perrette nó Heliotrope turned on her heel and left the room.

Reneè stayed behind for a moment, her mouth curving into a malicious smile, “I told you I would win,” she hissed at me, “and I have. No one will have you now, not your mother, or your friends, or even your precious Duc. You are soiled goods now Simonne, and you deserve every bit of what is to befall you.”

I gathered my strength and stood back up, meeting Reneè in the eye, “you have won. And I hope it pleases you. The only fault I have ever committed against you is that I was born of Calliope nó Heliotrope, and no other. I’m sorry that our mothers loved one another, and that yours was cast out. But I certainly do not deserve to be expelled as well, for I’ve done nothing truly wrong.”

“Nothing?” she sneered, “did you not here my Dowayne?” 

I flinched as she said “my”.

“You have broken your vows to Naamah, and followed your own heart above your duties. You know nothing of my mother, or what truly befell her after she left Heliotrope, but believe me when I say I hope a far worse fate falls upon you.”

I wanted to rush her, to slap or strangle her, but that would do me no real good in the end. Instead, I waked to the window, where the sun was just setting behind the tall buildings I could see from Night’s Doorstep. 

“You have won,” I said again, softly this time, “now please, leave me.”

Reneè said not another word, she didn’t have to. I heard the door catch behind her as she left. The tears were streaming down my cheeks now in rivulets that I could not stop. I had no way of contacting my sisters back at Heliotrope, and I had no idea how to get word back to Giles about my predicament. And even if I had, I was too shamed to see or speak with him right now anyway. 

I walked across the room slowly, and took off my dress, which I laid across the chaise lounge. I took the pins out of my hair and let it fall around my shoulders in gentle waves, and I went to the basin in the corner and used a damp cloth to clean my face. The kohl Cassandra had so lovingly applied this afternoon now ran in streaks down either side of my face. 

Finally, naked and clean, I climbed under the big soft blankets of the bed, white and fluffy, and fell into a dreamless slumber.


	20. The Next Morning

I awoke not knowing where I was. I felt the plush blankets upon my cheek and the goose down pillows beneath my head and remembered. With a sleepy smile, I reached across the bed for Giles. When my hand groped and found the bed empty, I came back to myself in an instant, and memories of the previous day flooded my mind.

I sat upright with a jerk, a looked about the room as though expecting to find aid, or answers, but instead I found nothing but an empty room. Well, not quite empty; there was a cleaning girl going about her business as if I were not even there at all. When she noticed me, she gave a small bob as way of a curtsey, and informed me that I had slept till well past normal checkout hours.

“My mistress instructed me to clean, and to let her know when you woke up. I’m afraid she will not let you stay here much longer.”

“Your mistress has been more than generous to let me sleep for as long as she did. I’ll collect my things and be out of here in a thrice.”

I rolled my way to the edge of the bed, and swung my legs over the side, my feet dangling a couple of inches above the floor. With a gently heave, I pushed myself off of the bed and walked to where my clothes were. I could feel the girl’s eyes on my naked form as I walked to the chaise lounge and stepped into the fine silk dress. I heard her soft intake of breath as she saw my marque, nearly three quarters of the way done, and I felt a tear run down my cheek as I realized that it would never be complete. 

Once clothed, I looked around the room, vainly looking for anything that might be useful to me. But petty theft is not in my armory of skills, and so I gave a little shrug of defeat, thanked the cleaning girl for her services, and left. 

The proprietress of the Notre Humble Demeure was waiting for me in the lobby, likely to see if I had indeed stolen anything and I was grateful that I had decided against it. 

Madame Loques had welcomed me to the Notre on my first visit, but I had not seen her since. Her salt and pepper hair made me think of an aging dog, and indeed there was something canine about the way she carried herself, a wolfishness in her eyes that I could not deny.

“Mademoiselle Simonne.” She said, her voice flat and businesslike. It was the first time I had ever been addressed without my surname, and I found myself uncomfortable.

“Madame Loques,” I replied, mimicking the cleaning girl’s bobbed curtsey from only minutes earlier. 

“I trust that I will not see you in this establishment again…plying your wares?”

The implication of what she was saying cut me like the marquist’s needle, sharp and precise. 

“No, Madame. I am a Servant of Naamah, and not a common whore. I will not be ‘plying my trade’ in your establishment, nor in any of the others in this district.”

Madame Loques scoffed at my candor, and bluntly countered, “You may have been a Servant of Naamah, but you are nothing now, and I will not have you sullying my business with your reputation. We are pleased to service high bred lords and ladies here, as well as their companions. Free agents, however, are not welcome.”

“I understand, your ladyship. My thanks for allowing me to sleep in this morning, I appreciate your kindness and generosity.”

With that, I collected myself with as much poise as I was able to manage, and I left the Notre with my head held high, even if my knees were trembling.

I knew of only one place in the world where I could go, though I was loathe to see her, I had to make my way to my mother’s apartments in the heart of the City. The walk was long, as I had no gold to contract with a carriage. Still, I was dressed like a well to do courtesan, and that at least was some security for the time being. 

I entered her apartment without knocking. In my mind, the tie for such niceties was long past. I looked derisively at the red velvet chair with chestnut fixtures, where I had sat the last time I was here. How I had plead for maman’s help that day, and how she had turned me away. Mayhap, had she given me the aid I requested then, all this could have been avoided. But no, my mother had chosen her secrets over my wellbeing, and for that I could not forgive her. 

I stood for a moment, looking around. I had finally decided that this was a terrible idea, and began to leave, when I heard her honeyed voice behind me, “Simonne?”

At her voice, so kind and familiar, so unaware of the shame I had brought down on her name, I broke down a sobbed. I fell to my knees and wept openly, my mother rushing to me and wrapping her arms around me as she had when I was a young child. 

“What, what is it my dear?”

“Have you not heard…?” I managed to get the words out between wracking sobs, “Reneè. She has been my downfall, even as she promised she would be. She told the Dowayne about Giles and I, and I have been declared anathema.”

I felt my mother’s body grow ridged at the news, but to her credit she did not pull away. Instead, she began stroking my hair softly, and whispering sweet things in my ear, like one might do to comfort a child.   
When finally my tears stopped, and my breathing slowed, I pulled back from her and glared into her eyes, large and blue like my own. 

“This is your fault,” I hissed at her, surprising myself with the venom in my own voice, “had you not betrayed Ellyn, Reneè wouldn’t have come after me, and Giles and I – “

“Would still have gotten caught, daughter.” My mother stood, letting me go in the process, “what happened between Ellyn and I is ancient history, and I will not bear the responsibility for your decisions. You chose to follow your heart, the same as I did. But, unlike you, I chose to uphold my vows in the end, and have lived with the pain of that choice every day since.”

She crossed the room and sat on one of her lovely chairs, falling back into it with a slump. For the first time I was seeing the woman behind the mask, and I could feel her pain. I walked over and sat in the chair opposite her. She reached out her hand and I placed mine into hers. It was warm and soft, my mother had known no hard labor in her days, but that didn’t mean that other parts of her were equally uncalloused. I imagined the idea of Giles being taken away from me forever, and being forced to go with my life as though nothing were amiss. She had to continue on with her service for years, and raise me as well, all while keeping her pain a secret, lest she too be cast out.

“I am sorry that my actions have caused you grief Simonne,” she said, her voice hoarse, “and I wish that there were more aide I could offer you. But, as you are now anathema, we are not to have any official contact either. I cannot allow you to stay here with me and my sisters, but I can give you a small sum of money to try and keep you from destitution.”

“Thank you mother…I truly appreciate any help you can give me.”

“And I will do one thing more, I will write letters, and use what connections I have, to try and locate the Duc d’Imbert for you, to let him know of your plight. I will do what little I can to try and help you to be with your true love.”

Tears were streaming down my cheeks now, “thank you mother,” I whispered, “thank you for helping me in my time of need.

“What do you plan to do?” she asked me after a time, “you could find a small apartment in Night’s Doorstep, until you are able to reach the Duc…?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head, “I know what I need to do. I have now been cast out of Heliotrope, same as Ellyn, yet I feel no need to seek vengeance against Reneè for the trouble she has caused me. Surely there must be more to the story than that she was banished and then Reneè just…sprang forth seeking my blood, like a story from some Hellene myth. I must go to Caerdicca Unitas, to find what truly befell Ellyn after she left Terre D’Ange.”

My mother looked horrified at the thought, but I was resolute in my decision. After some gentle persuading, she agreed to give me the money I needed for proper travel attire as well as safe passage to La Serenissima, through how I found lodging and food once there would be of my own accord. I shrank from the idea of giving myself to some Serenissiman who thought my trade vile, as the women there usually remained chaste until marriage. Still, I had no better plans, and so I agreed to my mother’s offer. 

We spent the remainder of the afternoon making preparations. She had her personal clothier come over to fashion something travel worthy for me to wear. Something modest and discreet. The clothier was of the Eglantine house, and he had a full boyish face and fair hair that put me in the mind of Giles. I smiled kindly at his as he complimented my figure. 

“Time is of the essence,” my mother cautioned him, “we do not want you to do a rushed job by any means, the outfit must hold up to hard travels, but please make haste!”

He bowed, and told my mother that my traveling suit would be done by the end of the day. We were lucky, he told us, that we were placing this consignment today and not in five weeks’ time, as he would be inundated with orders for the Longest Night by then. 

After he left, my mother sent one of her house boys to run and make the arrangements for my departure, which was to happen the following morning. 

“Discretion is of the utmost importance,” she warned him, pressing an extra gold coin deeply into the palm of his hand, “no one must know whose business you are about. Just tell the man at the station that you need one one-way ticket to La Serenissima, departing tomorrow.”

The young boy, he couldn’t have been older than 11, nodded his assent, and ran from the chateau. 

After that, we waited. It seemed like forever, when in truth it was only a few hours. First to return was Remy, the house boy. He had a ticket for me to travel by stagecoach, leaving at 8:00 in the morning. Thankfully I had few personal effects to pack, as most of mine were still at Heliotrope. My mother sent a missive there requesting that my things be brought to her home as soon as was convenient, and told me that she would keep them safe until my return. 

Later on in the evening, the clothier came back, bringing three matching outfits, one in brown, one in grey, and one in deep green. It was uncomfortable for me to not be wearing a shade of violet, but my mother convinced me that it would be far too conspicuous, to be traveling in Heliotrope colors.

“Besides,” she said, nudging me with her mouth quirked into a half smile, “did you not say that the Duc most often wears shades of green himself? It may please him to see you in his family’s color.”

She was not incorrect, and the suits were prettily and sturdily made. As I said, they were a matching set. Each came with a pair of pants, high waisted and wide legged, and a coat with brass buttons, though the grey one had clasps of silver instead. There were 5 shirts, all cream cotton, and light yet durable. I would be comfortable in these clothes, and safe as well. 

Of course, my mother told me, I could not travel in my purple satin slippers, which had been soiled almost beyond use on the long walk to my mother’s home this morning. Thankfully, we wore the same size, and she gave me two pairs to take with me, a sturdy pair of brown boots, and a delicate pair of black leather slippers for more social situations. She also sent me off with a billowy dress of white and pale blue gauze frock for said social occasions. 

We ate our dinner, a simple one of pottage and bread with honey, and I slept hidden in my mother’s closet, along with a small hard sided case into which all my new things were packed. 

In the morning, I rose with the sun and got dressed. I put my hair into a simple side braid, as I had learned from Christìanne, and I wore my brown suit with the brown boots from my mother. Her final gift to me was a woven hat, with a mauve ribbon around the band.

“So you didn’t forget where you came from, my love.”

“As if I ever could.”

We embraced one last time, and she gave me the kiss of farewell. And then I started towards the depot, and the first great adventure of my life.


	21. The Secrets of La Gemma Appannato

The journey took about 5 days by coach. We would set camp at night and sleep around a fire. I had 3 travel companions, an older man who was traveling to Caerdicca Unitas to perform some kind of trade business in Tiberium, and a woman in her late twenties traveling with her young son, they were visiting family in Millazza. I made up some story about traveling to seek my father in La Serenissima, but mostly kept to myself. 

Upon my arrival in the Little Court, I found loggings quickly enough in a small inn that was quite affordable, all things considered. After unpacking my belongings and breaking my fast, I began making inquiries about the prostitution district, as it was the best place I could think of to start. I had enough money left to last me about a week in the city, and so I knew that I must not wait any time with my investigation. 

Once pointed in the correct direction, I followed the channels until I found it. If such a district can be described as anything, it would be the exact opposite of the Court of the Night Blooming Flowers. Simply put, the pace was a slum. The buildings were mostly 2 stories tall, and the paint was uniformly yellow and peeling. 

As most of the city was on the water, there was severe water damage everywhere to be seen. Blown out signage, and the streets were made of cobblestones with large gaping holes filled with stale water. Rats scurried to and fro, some chased by cats while others scampered around unfettered.   
A dank, stagnant odor hung over the entire are, something between rot and unclean bodies; if desperation had a smell, it would be found in Il Quartiere Buio. I took a deep breath, and walked to the dilapidated building nearest to me, it had a picture of a rose burned into a wooden sign as well as the words “La Rosa Appassita”. 

Inside the foyer was dimly lit, and there were few patrons inside, but those that were there appeared most unsavory to say the least. Most of them had close clipped hair, which was the Caerdicci style, but their clothes were dingy and cheaply made. There were no more than 6 of the wandering around, drinking wine. Two of them were missing teeth. 

The matron of the brothel was a stout woman, some 40-years in age. She had ebony hair, and brown eyes that had a canny edge to them. I suppose one needed to be hard, to run such an establishment in this kind of a neighborhood.   
I approached her respectfully, and introduced myself with the alias I had decided upon proper to my arrival.  
“Buongiorno, Signora,” I began, exhausting nearly all of my Caerdicci in that entire sentence. “Il mia nome è Jaqueline Demanche. Parli D’Angeline?”

“Sì, un po’,” she responded, and we were able to have a conversation from there, stilted though it may have been. 

From Signora Tadai, I was able to discern that there was a brothel a ways down that specialized in “D’Angeline” sensibilities, and I decided that would be the best place to start. I thanked the Signora, and took my leave of her pleasure house, if one could call it that.

I made my way down the avenue, glad that it was daylight out yet, as I felt that I would be quite unsafe here when the sun went down, and without an escort especially. Near the end of the street, I saw the brothel that Signora Tadai had been referring to: “La Gemma Appannato”. My Caerdicci was not good, but even I recognized the insult in the title. “The Tarnished Gem,” indeed. 

I went inside, and blessedly this brothel was less seedy that the once that precipitated it. The clientele was of a slightly higher caliber, there were a couple of D’Angelines here I noticed, and there was natural light coming in through the windows, while the windows at La Rosa Appassita had been drawn shut with heavy curtains, giving that place a darker ambiance. 

The host of this brothel was a tall, lean man in his mid thirty’s if I had to guess. He had jet black hair, clipped close about his ears. He was drinking from a flagon he kept bound to his hip. I walked over to him and swept a small curtsey. 

“Mi scusi sire, parli D’Angeline?”

“Yes, I do, “he said with a heavily accented voice. 

“Oh thank Elua. I am Jaqueline Demanche. I’m searching for a D’Angeline woman who might be employed here?”

“None of my girls are old enough to be your mother. Not pretty enough either. We have some D’Angeline girls from time to time, but none at the moment.”

I pondered this for a moment, before posing my query, “When was the last D’Angeline girl here?”

Signore Castelano, as I learned his name to be some time later, took me to a small table covered with a navy blue table cloth that had silver trim, de la Courcel colors. We sat on benches made of roughly hewed wood. My bench was uneven, and it wobbled slightly from side to side as I sat on it. 

“Last D’Angeline girl I had…” he paused to take a swig off his flagon, offering me a drink, which I accepted and took a sip. It burned like uisghe from Alba, but was much sweeter…nearly as sweet as our joie. I asked Castelano what it was, and he told me it was called Sambuca. It tasted of star anise and elderflowers. 

“Last D’Angeline girl I had,” he continued, “left here some three years back. She had fled from her parents, who were forcing her into some unwanted marriage or something to that effect.”

That sounded odd to me, as D’Angelines we typically do not believe in forcing marriage upon some poor soul who does not desire it, unless the family is nobility of course, and the marriage is for political gain. But even then, taking lovers is quite common and natural. There is no reason a girl should have fled her own country just to escape a union, no matter how distasteful. Still, this girl was none of my concern at the moment, no matter how curiosity plucked at my mind. I was here for a purpose, and I was determined to find what I needed to.

“And…how long have you been the proprietor of this…establishment signore?”

“I’ve been here since I was a boy. My mother ran this house before I, with her brother as partner. When they died, I took over.”

“Do you mayhap have any memory of a girl who would have come here from Terre D’Ange some, nineteen years ago?”

Castelano leaned back in his chair, and ran his fingers through the little patch of hair on his chin. He took another draught of his Sambuca, then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. 

“That’s rather long ago. But I might remember something about a pretty girl that was here when I was a younger man.”

I blinked excitedly, but kept my breathing calm, and asked him what information he might have about her.

“There was a girl here, when I was in my more formative years, who could have rivaled the Bella Donna herself as far as beauty goes. Her hair was the same inky black, though her skin wasn’t nearly so fair, and her eyes were almost orange, instead of the sparkling blue black of sapphires like the Bella Donna had.”

Everyone knew the stories of the Bella Donna, Melisandre Shahrizai, who betrayed the throne of Terre D’Ange and sought refuge within the walls of Asherat-of-the-Sea. She was one of the most stunning single persons to ever be born from our country, and that is saying something indeed. The true adversary of Phèdre nó Delaunay. 

“Do you know aught else? Her name? How long she stayed here? What became of her?”

“Her name was Llynore, if I recall correctly. And she was a young thing when she came here, maybe some three years older that myself. Her hair was black as pitch, as I said, and her eyes glowed like embers in the fire. She was a popular girl here, as I recall.

She came here when I was about sixteen year’s old, bearing half a marque on her back. Was the first time I’d ever seen anything like it. Our whores don’t have marques here, there’s no need for it. It wasn’t until years later that I found out her marque wasn’t complete. That’s some kind of status thing amongst your people, that correct?”

I nodded my assent, and listened as he continued, “Anyway, like I was saying, her back thing wasn’t complete, and she felt no small amount of shame about it. We were the first brothel she came to; she had first sought refuge in the Little Court, but was banned when they found out about her marque. She said she’d been in the city for about three weeks when she finally came to us, gods know how she managed to survive before she got here. Peddling her wares on the streets, I’ve no doubt. 

I fell for her, I’m not ashamed to admit, fast and hard. She was the prettiest thing that had ever come through our doors before, and definitely added some repute to our house once she took up here. Llynore would have none of me though, she had her mind fully on her work. She made it clear from the beginning that she was not here to find a husband, she felt honor bound for some reason to continue on with the work she had been doing before coming here.

She found herself with child ere long, which must have been a conscious decision if I know anything about your people. Never knew who the father was, some John most like. It wasn’t myself, that much I can say for a certainty. But, she had the babe, a pretty little girl thing, with eyes that were as yellow as her mother’s were orange. She sent the child away, of course; this is no place to raise a young girl. She came back to visit her mother a few times over the years, I heard tell that she became a whore in her own country as well; like mother like daughter I suppose. 

Llynore left La Gemma Appannato maybe…six years ago? She contracted some illness from one of her customers, started with a rash on her hands and feet, she eventually had pustules covering her body, she had to leave our house when that happened. She lived in a small apartment in this district until she died, not long after she left. She went fairly mad in the end, walking along the canals and raving to anyone who would listen about Elua and the lies he had spun.”

My mind was reeling. This was far more information that I had expected to received. I counted myself to be fortunate indeed to have found someone with all the information I needed, and so quickly!   
I thanked Signore Castelano for all he had told me, and took my leave. I returned to the Little Court and sat on my bed. 

It all made so much more sense now, Reneè had every reason to hate my mother, and myself as well. Not only had her mother been shamed, but she had come to whore in Caerdicca Unitas, where she had fallen ill enough to die, and she had had to give up her daughter as well. I wondered why Ellyn had decided to light a candle to Eisheth, if she knew she would be anathema and exiled, but that was another matter to learn about at another time. 

I wrote a letter to my mother, under my pseudonym of course, and sent it to her post haste, telling her of the things I had learned. I tried to be as tactful as possible, knowing that my mother still loved Ellyn after all these years. But I needed her advice, and I couldn’t afford to mince words. 

Any wisdom you can impart to me at all my dear Calliope, I would appreciate. I wish to right the wrongs that have been done to Reneè in the past, yet I know not how to begin. There are too many grievances to which she is entitled, I fear, that no recompense shall ever be enough. You now have my address here in the Little Court, and I do hope to hear back from you soon.   
Your sister in Naamah always,  
Jaqueline Demanche


	22. Chateau d'Imbert

It didn’t take long before I received my mother’s response. In her letter, she wrote of her sorrow over Ellyn’s death. “It feels like I’m losing her all over again” she said. She had no suggestions for righting things between Reneè and I, but in heartier news, she had been able to track down the location of Giles’ estate, and told me that since I now had the information I had been seeking, I should travel to my beloved posthaste. Those were not the words she used, of course, but her message came through to me nonetheless. 

I wasted no time in clearing out my room. I scratched a hasty note to my mother, thanking her for her news, and assuring her I would contact her again once I was safely in Siovale. I thanked the innkeeper for her hospitality, and went straight away to the depot, so that I could arrange for transport to Siovale as soon as possible. I was in luck, as there was a coach setting out for Terre D’Ange that very afternoon. I would stop off in the City of Elua, and arrange the next leg of my travel from there. 

Filled with courage and pleasure at my mother’s ability to find Giles, I went to a small café and had a hot beverage that they serve in La Serenissima, espresso. It was a dark and bitter drink, but with a bit of cream and sugar it tasted just fine. I dipped a hard cookie called a biscotti into the drink, and gnawed on it absently. I pulled a book out from my satchel, I had brought it along for exactly this purpose: to keep me entertained, and educated, through my travels. It was the first volume of the Sidonian Cycle, which told the tale of our current queen, Sidone de la Courcel, and her beloved husband Imriel. 

Theirs is a wonderfully romantic love story, filled with deception and despair, subterfuge and daring rescues, magical stones and bear witches, and throughout it all, there are these two people who love one another above all things, though they still manage to fulfil every onus put before them. 

It put Giles into my mind when I read it, not that he wasn’t always in my mind anyway. But reading about our monarchs when they were my age, and when their love too was forbidden, it made me feel somewhat closer to them. 

The sun was high in the sky when the coach departed. I looked back behind me, taking in one last glimpse of La Serenissima. I wondered what other secrets that city might hold, but it was not for me to know.  
The trip was uneventful, and we arrived in the City of Elua within only two days’ time. I was able to contract with a gentleman who would act as my guide, and would take me to Chateau d’Imbert. He had fresh horses and a tent roll for each of us, plus provisions. His name was Ralph Ensign, and he promised that we would make it to Siovale in less than four days. It would likely take another day or two once we got there, to make our way through the mountains and into the valley where Chateau d’Imbert was. 

The weather was fair, and the mare that Ralph and procured for me was sweet tempered. I didn’t have much practice riding horses, but I rode more than enough over those few days for a lifetime. Grace, my mare, was sweet to be sure, but large! I was not used to having my legs akimbo for such long periods of time, and I could feel my muscles stretching with every gallop or canter she took. It was bumpy, and I bobbed up and down continuously in my seat. I tried to have the “loose hands” that Ralph had suggested, but the reins always wound up balled up in my tightly clenched fists. If I never take another trip by horse it will be too soon. 

The camping was nice though, I had gotten a small taste of it in the coach going to and from La Serenissima. But that had only been for a night or two each time, and in a larger group. Here it was only Ralph and myself, sitting by a fire to keep the crisp fall air from chilling us to our cores, I was usually wrapped in a blanket or something. Ralph would cook us our dinner, sometimes fresh game, like on our third day, right before we passed into the Siovale mountain range, he caught two rabbits using a clever snare. He roasted them over the fire that night, and my mouth watered as I smelled the meat cooking, watching the fat drip and sizzle on the embers below it. It was greasy and gamy and salty, but Elua did I love it! Mostly though, we ate the provisions Ralph had packed, bread and hard cheese, of course, as well as some dried meats and fruits. 

We would sleep beneath a thick canopy of stars. The first night I didn’t even sleep in my tent, I was so taken by the sight of them.

“You’ll regret it in the morning,” Ralph warned me, “it gets quite cold and wet in this region, especially at this time of year.”

But I would not be deterred. I, who had been born and bred in the City, had never before seen the sky as it was out in the more rural areas. I laid beneath the luminous moon, and watched as a shooting star flew across the sky. I wished with all my heart to have my honor restored, and that I may also have Giles as my husband. 

That was definitely the only night that I slept outside, for it was as damp as Ralph had warned. After that night I slept safe and dry within my tent, but that in that first night our under the stars, I felt freer than I ever had before. 

When finally we crested our last peak, and Chateau d’Imbert finally came into my sight for the first time, I was overwhelmed. It was the most beautiful homestead I had ever seen, with only a few small houses, clean and quaint, dotting the terrain. There was a good amount of farmland, and there was a small river nearby that I could see as well. The manor house was larger than I had expected it to be, from the way that Giles had spoken, I’d anticipated the house to be the size of one of the smaller houses. Instead, I was pleased to see that it was a quite large, and made of grey stones, with a wooden roof and a great many windows. There were two turrets, and even a wooden barbican. It took all of my strength to not press Grace hard down the slope, that I might see my beloved sooner. I restrained myself though, and took my time to pull out my green travel suit, which I still had yet to wear, and changed into it behind a tree, along with a clean chemise and undergarments. I wanted to look my best when I saw Giles, and not like some bedraggled vagabond.

We rode down into the parish, and past the houses, as well as the blacksmith and the one small sundries shop that there was. I was impressed with the stature of the place, as I’ve mentioned already, but it bears repeating. We made our way up to the barbican, which was open at present, and right unmounted our horses. Ralph offered to stay behind and tend to them while I went inside. I was greeted by a fair girl with rosy cheeks and apricot colored hair. She told me that she was Annette, and was the steward’s daughter. I asked her if I could please gain audience with Duc d’Imbert, and told her to inform him that I was a friend from the City, come to visit him and hopefully help his winter to pass more quickly. Annette guided me into the salle haute, with was small, but had high ceilings and large windows of stained glass, which allowed some light inside. I sat on a large, plush chair made of green velvet with a high back. One of the stained glasses depicted Shemhazai teaching Elua’s followers written word, his hair falling in long black waves, his angelic wings folded behind him. There was another, showing Elua exiting his prison in Persis, the bars covered in vines and flowers in a wreath about his head. This is, of course, one of the most famous portrayals of Elua in D’Angeline artwork. 

It took only a few minutes before Giles entered the room, his mouth splitting into a huge grin when he saw that I was the “friend from the City”.

“Simonne!” he exclaimed, rushing towards me.

“Giles!” I called out, as I ran into his arms. 

He held me so tightly, I felt faint, but I never wanted him to loosen his grip. I inhaled the fragrance of him, he smelled of cedar and spearmint, with a trace of soap. I nuzzled my face into his neck, and deposited several kisses upon his warm flesh. His grip around my waist altered in some way, though I could not say exactly how. He pulled back slightly and looked at me with his jade green eyes, searching.

“Is this true? Can you possibly really be here? Tell me Simonne, is this a dream?”

“No, my love,” I said with a little laugh, “you are awake, and I am here. Tell me that my presence is welcome, and that you do not mind me showing up unannounced?”

“Mind? Simonne, had I known you were coming, I would have escorted you myself! I’d have ridden to the City without stop for rest, just to be by your side once again. I am overjoyed to have you here with me.”

And with that he kissed me. It had been nearly two months since we’d seen each other last, and the passion was palpable. His lips crushed my own, and his tongue ventured desperately into my mouth, probing and leaving no area undiscovered. 

Giles reached behind me and unlaced the back of my green travel habit, his fingers flying as if on their own. My pants too were undone and thrown haphazardly against a wall. I stood before him wearing nothing but my chemise and a thin lace undergarment, which I had brought especially for this moment. I watched, smiling, as his beautiful green eyes went wide at the sight.

“…Simonne…?” he asked me wonderingly.

“This was the one purchase I made while in La Serenissima,” I explained, “I saw them and knew that I wanted to wear it when I saw you next.”

“But, how? What? When were you in La Serenissima? And for that matter, how is it that you came to be here in the first place?”

“It is a very long story my love, and one that I will tell you in full, I promise. But for now, please Giles, as you love me, do not stop.”

That was all the invitation that he needed, and he came to me anew, sliding his warm hands up my back and sliding the chemise up and over my head. Far from his normal courtly garb, Giles was wearing a tunic made of fine spun brown cotton, with a heavy leather belt and tan trousers. I had them off of him in a thrice, and as soon as I wiggled out of my lace undergarment, we stood before one another, naked as we should always be.

His need was already apparent, his cock standing stiff and erect, emerging from the tuft of blonde hair where his legs met. I was already slick with desire, his very kiss having stoked my internal fire instantly.   
I fell back onto a long couch, made of the same green velvet as the chairs, and equally comfortable. I raised a knee slightly, opening myself up to him like a flower. 

Giles knelt on the floor before me, reverently, He dipped his head between my legs and parted my nether lips with the barest tip of his tongue. I quivered and moaned beneath his touch. Ah Elua, it had been too long! I pleaded with Giles to bring me to completion, but he was determined to take his time.

“Shhh, calm yourself my dear, everything in time.” And then he continued.

His hands were on my inner thighs, massaging the muscles there, sore from days of hard riding. I twisted beneath him, my fists clenching and unclenching on the air above my head. Giles kissed every inch of my skin, which was wet and pulsing under his attentions. He slid a single finger up inside of me, as he moved his focus to Naamah’s pearl, sucking and licking at it gently. My whole body began to tremble, and I felt my eyes rolls back as my lids slid down over them. He worked me slowly and intently. When he finally brought me to my final, shuddering climax, I cried out and my cries echoed through the caverns of the salle haute. Only when I laid completely still, and my breathing has resumed to normal, did he stop, and sidle his way up my body, kissing my belly and my breasts along the way. He swirled his tongue over my peaked nipples, and made his way up my neck and to my mouth. I could taste my desire still on his lips, and I returned his kiss fervently. 

When he entered me, it felt like coming home. I nearly sobbed with the relief of it. He moved up and down inside of me, our hips rocking together in unison. He glided in and out of me with no effort at all, and when he finished, his entire body went rigid and he collapsed on top of me, spent with the effort. 

He laid there on top of me like that for a minute or so, and then he slid out of me and rested his head upon my breast. I played with his hair idly. 

“How is it you’ve come to be here Simonne? How are you not some apparition, created by my insatiable desire to see you again? I must know.”

“Can we not get dressed before I tell you the entire tale my love?”

He chuckled slightly at this, “of course my dear.”

I walked gracelessly across the room and retrieved my discarded outfit, redressing myself quickly. Giles too was quick about his work, and we were sitting beside one another on the couch in no time at all, his arm wrapped around me and my head on his shoulder.

I told him the entire tale then, everything I had neglected to tell him before. I told him all about my mother and Ellyn, and Reneè’s vendetta against me. I told him how she had tricked me and that I had been abjured by Heliotrope, that I was now shamed. 

“I had no idea that you had been through so much since we’ve met,” he said once I had finished.

“It would have happened whether you were here or not, Reneè still had every reason to hate me, to see me ruined. You had nothing to do with it at all.”

“But I am the reason you’ve been expelled from Heliotrope, don’t say it’s not true.”

“Yes,” I replied in slow, measured words, “but I’m sure Reneè would have found some way to get rid of me, regardless of your role in things. Please Giles, do not blame yourself. We both made our own choices, and I do not regret a single one of mine, for I’ve found myself in your arms tonight, and that is the most important thing of all.”

“We have much to discuss, plans to make, and possibly even a wedding to plan. That is, if you’ll still have me, now that you’ve become a world traveler,” he said with a wink.

“Yes my dear, we have many plans to make. But can they wait until tomorrow? I am tired from my travels, and I want nothing more than to lie with you and be satiated in your arms.”

His mouth quirked, and he leaned in and began to kiss my neck again. I immediately felt the sweet yearning return to my belly, the desire that was stoking back up again. 

“Yes, we can talk later,” his voice was muffled by my flesh between his lips, “mayhap for now, we can make up for lost time?”

And we did. By gods, we did.


	23. A Triumphant Return

The months flew by at Chateau d’Imbert. I first arrived there in late October, and we departed to return to the City of Elua in mid-February. We spent the chilled winter months bundled up in front of a roaring fire for the most part, and I found that I enjoyed being mistress of a household. 

I thrived as I gained more confidence, directing the minimal staff in the maintaining of the manor, and I discovered that I was quite a fair hand at cooking, of all things. There was plenty of fresh game meat and fish from the foothills and river, and Giles had taken to calling me his “bunny,” as that had quickly become my favorite meal. I learned all about spices and how to skin and quarter a hare, how to fillet a fish, and how to pluck a hen. I learned all about vegetables, and how to bake a loaf of bread. I found so much fulfillment at the chateau, more than I had ever known in the Night Court. 

During these quiet months, Giles and I plotted and schemed. He was prepared to marry me outright, and make me his Duchess, but I was adamant. I needed to find my way back into Naamah’s service, for I was not content to be merely a wife, abjured by my house and left with no other choice. No, I wanted my marque to be made fully, that I might be a complete person when I entered this union. Giles understood, though he said that it mattered naught to him. 

We spent the Longest Night together, our first. We held a small fête, with some of our tenants invited to celebrate the occasion with us. I was grateful for the gossamer dress my mother had given me, and the beaded slippers. They were put to good use that night, though they wound up discarded before the night was over. We danced for hours, and drank joie that Giles had had brought in from the City especially for me. I helped prepare the feast we ate that night with my own two hands, and could not have been more pleased with the results of my labor. 

There were other noble families present of course, and Giles introduced me to them as his paramour. He told me later that they had all been utterly charmed by me, and had told him how lucky he was to have found such a treasure. 

Still, the chill thawed and the time had come for us to return to the City. The journey took slightly longer than when I had first come to Chateau d’Imbert, for we rode in a coach instead of on horseback, by suffice it to say that is was far more comfortable. When the City first came into sight, my eyes welled with tears, I had not reckoned on how much I would miss my home. 

Our very first stop was to visit with my mother, of course. I performed the necessary introductions between she and Giles, who was the epitome of courtly chivalry. 

“My lady,” he said, as he bowed and kissed her hand.

My mother, who had been trained in the same fashion as myself, blushed at his niceties, and demurred his compliments. 

“My lord is too kind,” she said. 

“Please, we are to be kin, if by marriage rather than blood or fosterage. Call me Giles.”

“And please, Giles, call me Calliope. Or, Mother, if you are so inclined.”

“My own mother died when I was still a child, and I have longed for a maternal presence in my life. I believe I will call you Mother, if you don’t mind it.”

My mother laughed, and embraced him at his words. All told, we spent a lovely afternoon together, the two of them finally becoming acquainted. They both jibed me a little, but I didn’t mind it as it was all in good fun. They poked and jested with one another, but it was at no one’s expense and a good time was truly had by all. 

Giles had sent a missive along ahead of us, requesting audience with Queen Sidone and King Imriel, as we had planned. Our audience was scheduled for the following day, and so we needed to go to our lodgings at court before ere long. Giles had a regular room at court, and as I was his acknowledged lover now, I was to stay with him. 

I was quite nervous that night, and found it very difficult to sleep. Giles did his best to relax me of course, and after our months of living together he knew how to play me like a finely tuned harp, but still I was restless. He laid beside me, breathing deeply, and sleeping soundly, while I tossed and turned. Eventually I gave up, and paced the floor, going over and over the things I would say to my sovereigns the next day.  
The sun finally rose, though the night seemed to last for years. We both bathed and dressed. I had had a dress made especially for the occasion, a deep emerald green, ad made of a thick cotton that kept me warm despite the cool air of the New Year. It was simple, and modest, which I hoped would help me in my case I braided my long hair into several small braids, and coiled them, pinning them so that the braids hung in loops around my face, and in a fat pile on top of my head. Giles was dressed to match in a green doublet and brown trousers. There was gold brocade on his doublet, and gold gilt trim along my neckline and sleeves. 

When we entered the throne room, I was taken aback at how beautiful it was. Never before in my life had I seen such opulence. I was raised in the Night Court, and so I am not easily impressed, but never in my wildest fathomings had I imagined such a hall of such beauty. There were thick white columns throughout, and dark blue banners embroidered with silver, the de la Courcel colors. There were swans everywhere as well, as that was their coat of arms. Up on a dais of white stairs sat the King and Queen on their thrones. King Imriel’s throne was made of silver, and it had sharp peaks along the top of it, with sapphires capping each peak. Queen Sidone’s was gold, with a large sun formed at its apex, and it had emeralds adorning it as well. The story is that, for their coronation, Queen Ysandre commissioned both of these thrones especially for our new monarchs, Imriel’s so that he could truly feel the embrace of his de la Courcel legacy, and Sidone’s because she had been named the Sun Princess by her people many years before. The emerald was so that she might never forget what the Prince of Carthage had done to her and our people. These thrones were as much as gift as they were a reminder, to remain vigilant against the threat of other nations, which meant us harm.

But their thrones were nothing compared to their gods given beauty. I had seen renderings of them, of course, but there had never been a reason for me to see either of them in the flesh. Imriel was every inch the Shahrizai heir, with his glistening black hair in hundreds of tiny black braids, and his blue eyes shining like sapphires against his fair skin. He was wearing a doublet of blue velvet, trimmed in silver thread, and had a silver crown resting on his head. And Queen Sidone was as brilliant as the sun from whence she drew her sobriquet. She sat straight and tall, with her blonde hair falling in luminous golden waves, her eyes sharp and Cruinthe black. Her regal bearing would have been obvious to even the simplest peasant, but as one who had been raised around nobility, it was evident all the more.   
Seated in a smaller, wooden throne, was the dauphin, Conor de la Courcel. He had inherited his mother’s golden hair, and his father’s piercing blue eyes. He was somber in much the same way that they were said to be, for all that a boy of eight years old can show his temperament before the court. 

And, of course, standing at the right hand of the Queen, as always was her beloved companion Amarante of Namarre, who was the High Priestess at the Temple of Naamah, and was thusly clad in the flowing red robes of Her order. Amarante’s hair was the color of apricots, and her eyes were a spring green. She smiled down at us from atop that dais. 

I sank to the floor, using all of my training to summon the deepest curtsy I could muster, and Giles bowed from the waist, until he was at a full ninety-degree angle. We rose and walked closer to the dais. When we were standing at it’s first step, we stopped and looked up. Giles and I had planned for several months what we would say, how this ought to go. I would, of course, not mention Reneè or her vendetta against me. It would sound petty, when what truly mattered was that they saw the love between us, and that we had done nothing more than upheld Blessed Elua’s Precept, despite the cost.  
The royal couple listened to our story in full with no interruptions. We told them how we had met, with Giles as my patron, and how we had fallen in love with each other, though I had tried to resist. I admitted to betraying the edict of my Dowayne, and breaking my vows in the bargain. I expressed regret for this, though not for following my heart. Giles spoke at great length about his love for me, and how I had dazzled him and captured his heart.

When we finished, Imriel bowed his head towards his queen and whispered in her ear. She considered his words for a moment, and then nodded her assent before speaking.

“What exactly is it you ask of us, Simonne nó Bouscevre?”

“I wish to reenter Naamah’s Service,” I said, my voice calm and steady, “I wish to complete my marque, so that I may no longer be shamed in the eyes of Elua, and so that my commitments have been fulfilled.”  
“As this is a matter for Naamah, and not one of state, I feel that the decision should be made by the Priestess who speaks for Her. Amarante, what say you?”

The priestess bowed slightly before the queen, and turned to face me.

“You have followed Elua’s words, child. And no one here can fault you for that, not truly. However, you have broken the vows of your house, and you cannot return there. It is the ruling of Naamah that Simonne nó Bouscevre be allowed to reenter Naamah’s Service, but as a free courtesan. You hold your bond price in your own hands, you may solicit patrons however you see fit, though you are not to contact House Heliotrope under any circumstances. You may not reside within the Court of the Night Blooming Flowers, nor may you bear the completed marque of a Heliotrope adept. The marquist will need to create something unique for you, as he does for any other unaffiliated adepts.”

My eyes filled with unshed tears. I would get to complete my service! I would not be shamed forever! 

“And does this judgement sit with you Simonne?” The king asked.

I struggled to find my voice, I was so overcome with gratitude.

“I…I am beyond words, my lord,” I stammered out, sinking to the floor yet again, “thank you.”

I fought against the urge to kneel, abeyante, but I knew that would be undignified, and improper for the future Duchess d’Imbert. 

Imriel smiled then, his teeth flashing white, “Of course. If there is anyone who understands the thrall of forbidden love, it would be the two of us, after all.”

We took our leave then, Giles and I. We backed out of the Throne Room slowly, and once outside we embraced and Giles swung me around in a circle.

“You’ve done it my love! You have the opportunity to do what no other adept in the history of Terre D’Ange has done before, you hold your own marque. You alone control your future, and once you are done, we can finally be married.”

The enormity of this responsibility bore down on me, I had no idea how I was going to manage to bring everything to fruition. How would I solicit business? Where would I live? It wouldn’t be meet, of course, to entertain patrons in Giles’ chambers at court. And I could not conjugate with my mother either, no matter how the thought might appeal to me. 

After a bit of thought, Giles and I came up with our plan: I would take up residence in Night’s Doorstep, Giles would pay my tenancy at a small townhouse there. He would not be able to refer patrons to me, for obvious reasons, but he would support me financially as best he could until I made my marque. 

Feeling confident with our plan in place, Giles and I returned to his quarters, to enjoy our last night together before I returned to my work.


	24. On Night's Doorstep

I was set up in a townhouse in Night’s Doorstep within short order, on La Rue L’écharde de Fleurs. It was not the best neighborhood, but Giles could only afford so much, and I could not fault him for it. The house had a front salon, for casual entertaining, as well as a boudoir in the back. The boudoir was sumptuous for the cost, and there were thick swathes of fabric draped from the rafters to provide a homier ambiance. I had many candles lit, as there were only a few windows in my apartment. Well and good, for the street view was nothing to brag about either, Tsagini men and women walking down the street, brawling and singing by turns, at all hours of the night. 

While it’s true that I was accustomed to living with a much higher standard of living, I didn’t really mind my current accommodations that much. I had freedom for the first real time in my life. I was able to come and go as I pleased, with no one to answer to. I ate what I chose and when, and if I wanted to lie in bed until ten o’clock in the morning instead of rising with the sun, then I could do that as well.   
It was the finding of patrons that proved to be hard work. I had been gone from Naamah’s Service for more than six months, which is nearly a lifetime in the Night Court. I made some cursory advances to some of my old patrons, Henri Melark, for one, and the Cometess Kevouis as well. They had all moved on, mostly to Reneè’s bed from what I had gathered. And so, she had completed her task. The story of my scandalous affair with Giles had spread through the City like wildfire, and no patron worth his salt wanted to come near me. Why contract with a whore when her heart belongs to another? I can’t say I didn’t understand.   
I lived in my tiny apartment for several weeks, with nothing to show for my efforts. Giles was paying my rent, as well as providing me with a small weekly stipend to afford food and the like. But my days were long and boring. I read, mostly. I had completed the Sidonian Cycle by now, and moved on to the tales of sovereigns from older times. I read about Janise de la Courcel, and how she had brokered peaceful trade with Caerdicca Unitas, I read about her sire Gerard de la Courcel, who had kept the City safe when enemies from the Flatlands sent raiding parties, trying to abduct adepts for their own coarse desires. I learned much about my nation’s history, and felt the wiser for it, but still my marque refused to climb. 

I saw Giles several times a week. He would come by my room, and collect me. We would go somewhere for the evening, mayhap a show at Eglantine, where adepts would tumble and somersault across the room, or mayhap for a showing ad Ceres, to better put us in the mood for love making later that evening, not that we were ever in need of such inspiration. 

One evening, when I had been in my townhouse for about five weeks, there was a knock on my door. I was not expecting Giles this evening, and so I went to the door a bit apprehensively.  
“Who is it?”

“Is this the home of Simonne nó Bouscevre?” a male voice asked from the other side.

“It is.”

“I am come to seek your services, I’ve heard told that you were once the foremost courtesan in Heliotrope, and I’ve come to see for myself.”

I slowly opened the door, and saw a tall man standing in the entrance. The weather was fair, the chill had begun to thaw and the sun was just beginning to sink behind the tops of the buildings. 

“Welcome then, my lord,” I said, standing aside to grant him access to my front salon and lowering myself into a curtsy, “I was not expecting visitors this evening, and so my home is not exactly how I would have it prepared for an assignation. My apologies.”

“None needed, the fault is my own, I ought to have sent a missive announcing my presence, but I heard tell of you, and could not keep myself from visiting you at once.”

The stranger was tall, as I’ve said. A full head and shoulders taller than Giles, if I reckoned correctly. He wore a dark hooded cape, which obscured his features a bit, but I could see that his hair was black as pitch, and his braids shone like ebony in my dim apartment. His eyes were bright green, and canny. His jawline was well formed, if a bit square for my personal tastes. 

“I am at your service my lord, and would be glad to serve you this evening. Please, sit. Make yourself comfortable. May I offer you some refreshments? Wine mayhap, or cheese?”

“Wine, if it’s not much trouble.”

I rushed to my small pantry and prepared the wine as nicely as I could. It was a new vintage, as I could not afford better. It was sharp, and young, but it would still help to quench my patron’s thirst and hopefully relax him a bit as well. He seemed so quiet, and rigid. Still, I was in no place to vet and turn away patrons, so I would have to try and put myself back into the mind of a Heliotrope adepts, though it had been so long since I’d needed to remember my training.

I reentered the salon, and saw my patron sitting comfortably on my chaise lounge, his boots removed. Giles, knowing how I loved them, had purchased one for me, that my townhouse might feel a bit more like home. I set the carafe of wine and the glasses on a low wooden table before my patron, and asked him for his name.

“I am Ian Lefever.” His voice had a deep timbre to it, and he took a deep draught from his glass, wincing only slightly at the taste. I knelt abeyante at his feet. 

“Lord Lefever, how may I serve you this evening?”

Lefever set his glass down on the end table, and stroked his chin consideringly, “I’ve heard tell of an adept who so loved her patron that she chose love over duty. What do I want? I want to see that passion, I want to feel that love. It has been too long since I’ve felt…anything really. Can you grant me my request?”

I tilted my chin up, lifting my forehead from the ground, and sat up straight, my knees curled beneath me, “Yes my lord, I can make you feel.”

I slid my knees forward, inching slowly closer to him. I found myself crouching between his spread knees after only a moment. His hands were resting on his thighs, I took them in my own and set them upon my hips. Lefever shifted slightly in his seat, he seemed uncomfortable at this.

“My lord,” I whispered, trying to pour honey into my voice, “it is just you and I here this evening. There is no other in my mind or my heart besides you,” I raised my eyes to meet his, “you are all I want tonight”.  
The words came out of my lips, but they tasted bitter rather than sweet. Ah, Elua, this could be my last chance, and I wasn’t sure I could go through with it at all. 

I twisted my lips into a smile, the sweetest I could draw up, and moved my way in closer. I felt Lord Lefever slide his hands round my waist, and tighten slightly on the small of my back. I took a deep, slow breath and smiled up at him again. I reached up with my right hand and drew back his hood, allowing his braids to fall loose around his face. With my other hand, I brushed several of them back, tucking them behind his ear, and I ran my hand down his cheek as I brought it back down. 

“I am so glad my lord has chosen to visit with me this evening,” I said softly.

“The choice was not a difficult one to make, when the girl in question is as beautiful as you are.”

And with that, Lord Ian Lefever leaned down and kissed me. I closed my eyes, and prayed for Naamah to grant me peace in my heart. He tasted of my sour wine, but he was not a bad kisser by any means, thank the gods. He poked his tongue into my mouth, and explored it all inside. His lips pressed against mine, not with passion or desire even, but…longing mayhap? I felt his braids brushing against my face, and as he stood he lifted me with him, so that we were facing one another. 

As I had said, I wasn’t expecting company, and so I was wearing a very simple dress, similar to the day dresses we wore at Heliotrope. I had taken to wearing more green, in its various shades, as that is the d’Imbert colors, and Giles has told me he would be honored if I should chose to display them. So, I was wearing a comfortable robe, made of fine-spun sage green wool, which was tied with a wide belt of emerald ribbon. Lefever reached down and unknotted the belt, letting it drop to the floor, then he slid his cool hands under the collar of my robe and over my shoulders, slipping it from my body, so that it too fell to the floor, like a discarded tissue. 

I willed my hand not to tremble as I reached up and undid the silver clasp that held his cloak together. He shrugged out of it, and draped it across the top of the chaise lounge. Now he stood before me wearing a brown leather jerkin and rough-spun brown pants. I realized with a panic that we hadn’t settled on any sort of financial terms, I’d never needed to do that before, as things had always been arranged by my house. But now, I knew it was too late to cancel our assignation unless I should feel somehow threatened or unsafe, which I did not. I was merely going to have to hope that his clothing was not indicative of the fee he would leave for me. 

So strange, it was, to have to worry about finances. I had gone from Heliotrope, where I had known every comfort afforded to a courtesan of the realm, and then to La Serenissima, which had not been awful at all, to staying at Chateau d’Imbert, which had been absolutely lovely. My current situation was not bad either, by any stretch, but I was absolutely dependent on this patron to give me the money I so desperately needed, not just to marry Giles, but to survive. 

I pushed the thought from my head as quickly as I was able. It wouldn’t do to be thinking about finances when I was with a patron, it was vulgar. I used my nimble fingers and undid his jerkin in short order. His chest was lean and pale. He glistened like the moon, small wiry black hairs curling in a path down his chest. I leaned in and kissed him again, gently and sweetly this time. I could feel the sharp prick of tears forming behind my eyes, but I blinked them away, hoping that he didn’t notice. 

I sank back to my knees and undid his heavy brown belt, and undid the fastening on his trousers, which fell into the pile of clothing that now included both our belts, my robe, and his jerkin. He took me by the hand and pulled me again so we were facing each other once more, though naked now. I smiled up at him, my eyes shining with unshed tears, but I hoped that they just looks glassy with ardor. I took him by the hand and led him from my salon, into my boudoir. 

My bed was of a good size, larger than the one I’d had at Heliotrope, but smaller than the bed Giles and I shared and Chateau d’Imbert. It had large, down filled pillows, and a soft green coverlet, embroidered all over flowers and vines. Giles had had it made especially for me as well, with his house colors. I pushed Lord Lefever back onto my bed, and began to perform languisement upon him, drawing upon his shaft gently, and rolling my tongue around its head. 

It took time, as it sometimes does, for Lefever to respond to my ministrations. But slowly, after much teasing and suckling on my part, he awakened to my touch. I felt his hand go to the back of my head, and stroke my loose hair as he stiffened in my mouth. I moved rhythmically between his legs, sliding up and down his body with my own, eventually taking my mouth off of him. I crawled up the full length of his body, and straddled him. I bent my head and kissed him. I felt a single tear escape my closed eye and drop from my cheek. I opened my eyes quickly, panicked, but Lord Lefever appeared not to have noticed. His own eyes were closed, and his mouth was agape, he was moaning softly. I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, and then gently guided him into me. 

“Ah, Elua…” he sighed, his voice filled with peace and pleasure.

I smiled softly, despite myself. No matter how I had wished to be with Giles and he alone, I had given this man something cathartic, something he seemed to have long sought, and for that I couldn’t help but be a little bit content myself.

I climbed off of him, and went to the wash room to freshen myself up. When I returned, he was already half dressed, his trousers on and buckled, and he was in the process of retyping his jerkin. His boots were still on the floor next to the chaise lounge. 

“You’re leaving my lord?”

“Next time you have a patron over, maybe don’t cry on them,” he said quietly as he pulled his boots back on.

I was stunned into silence. 

Lord Lefever removed a small blue bag from his cloak and set it on the end table. 

“But let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love: let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls,” he said.

With those mysterious words, he walked past me and through my door, out into the night. 

I locked the door behind him, and then went and picked up the pouch he had left. I was surprised by the weight of it. It was dark blue velvet, and it had a small silver key hanging from the ribbon that tied it. 

Curious…

I untied the ribbon, and was shocked to see thirty gold pieces inside the purse! To complete my marque wouldn’t cost half that much. 

I ran to the door and out into the street, but Lefever was gone, vanished like one of Elua’s Companions in the stories of old, and I was left alone to ponder why on Earth I had been blessed with such good luck.


	25. Renee

I had finally won. 

After months of scheming, years of preparation, I had finally won, and Simonne, that bitch, has been declared anathema. I have finally vindicated my mother, if not by clearing her name, then by having my vengeance on her lover’s disgusting get.

My mother, Ellyn nó Bouscevre, was ejected from Heliotrope, one of the pleasure houses in the Court of Night Blooming Flowers in the City of Elua, in Terre D’Ange. She was a courtesan, as I am. We were both raised within Heliotrope, who’s edict is “Thou and No Other”. My mother was raised to put her patron above all others, if even just for the night. But she made a fatal error, she fell in love with another adept, Calliope nó Heliotrope. They had a secret affair, and when my mother committed to a plan to run away from the life that they lived in Heliotrope, Calliope abandoned her, and my mother was discovered.   
After seeking work within the City, but finding none due to her status as a shamed whore, my mother fled the country of her birth and went instead to Caerdicca Unitas. She looked for work there of a more reputable sort, but for what else was she trained, if not pleasure? Finally, my mother took residence in a brothel in La Serenissima, La Gemma Appannato. She stayed there and worked for several years, giving birth to me as a final recourse. 

One night, in a fit of desperation, my mother lit a candle to Eisheth, asking her to open my mother’s womb and make her fertile. So is the gift of my people, that we might not bear children until it is of our choosing. And my mother, who had been so alone for so long, decided that it would be better to bring a child in the world than to be alone forever. 

And I lived with my mother for the first few years of my life. I watched as she performed the languisement on fat, Caerdicci men who mocked her, I listened from the closet as they lobbed insults at her. I ate the crusts off the loaves of bread my mother saved to purchase with the patron gifts they provided, which were never enough. 

When I was four years old, my mother sent me back to the City of Elua, to be fostered by her old house. As lonely as she was, Ellyn knew that she could provide no real life for me, no future besides the one that she had. And she wanted better for me. So, she wrote a missive to her once house, imploring them to accept my, if not for my lineage, then for my own gifts, which she claimed were many. I had always been a beautiful child, with my long dark hair and my eyes that seemed to take in the entire world around me. It is true, I observed and absorbed everything I saw. 

I was taken from my mother, and placed into the house which had shamed her and sent her away. I was told on no uncertain terms by my Dowayne upon my arrival that my place within the house was entirely contingent upon me earning my keep. I would be trained to be a courtesan, and if I was found unfit then I would be sent back to La Serenissima, to live out my days with my mother there. 

I was given leave to visit my mother twice a year, for a week each time. It never felt like enough time, and yet it also felt like too much. I would spend the weeks leading up to my visit filled with childlike anticipation, thrilled at the prospect of seeing my beloved mother, and I fantasized about resting my head on her knees, feeling her skirts around me like a protective cocoon. I imagined her sharing her secrets with me, and making me into a courtesan of whom she could be truly proud. I would reclaim our family’s honor. 

But our visits were never like that. 

Instead, I was made to listen to my mother correcting all the training I showed her, adjusting my posture, and correcting my pronunciation. She would go off on tirades about the running of Heliotrope, and said that I was receiving a poor education. I was still forced to listen as she sold her body to pay for bread and wine. My mother had become bitter from her years of misuse in La Serenissima, and when she became sick, it was even worse. 

It came from one of her patrons, she could not say which. I doubt she ever even knew. She told me that it came first as a rash on her hands and feet, and then the pustules began forming across her body, filled with milky white pus that stank when the wounds would burst. I was with her in her last days, I am grateful for that at least. But the illness had driven my mother nearly mad at that point, so that she raved and hissed at me when I came close to her. 

She would pontificate, when she was younger, about the lie that Elua had spread, and the foolish D’Angelines, who had bought his lies wholesale, and made a religion of them. 

“Love,” she would seethe through clenched teeth, “is for the weak. Never give your heart in earnest Reneè, for all you shall reap is ruin if you do.”

I took her words to heart at a young age, and I made it my mission to rise within my house, to gain stature there. I was fourteen before my mother would tell me why she had been expelled from the Night Court.   
“I wanted to tell you before you took your own vows,” she told me, before sharing her story of love and betrayal. Once I knew all, it took very little effort to find that Calliope had had a daughter of her own, only slightly older than myself. When my mother died, I decided that I would make her pay for her mother’s crimes, and for my own desecrated childhood.

Simonne nó Heliotrope. She was a great favorite, with her long shining brown waves, and her large blue eyes that sparkled like the summer sky. She was so sweet and kind to everyone around her, and as we grew I could feel my hatred growing like a weed in my heart. I nurtured my resentments, and let them fester and burn. I couldn’t renounce Elua’s teachings, because I had never bought into them at all. Simonne had a great many patrons, and was far ahead of all other adepts in terms of having her marque made. 

And then Madeline, that sweet simpleton, went and opened her mouth one day, declaring to anyone with ears that Simonne had genuine feelings for the Duc d’Imbert, one of her patrons. In a flash, a plan formulated in my mind. It was so simple, it was almost too simple. This moon eyed idiot had fallen victim to one of the classic plunders, never give your heart to a patron, especially if you are promised in service to Naamah. 

From there, I was able to orchestrate, over several months, Simonne’s ruin. I first had word slipped to Dowayne Perrette of Simonne’s affections. Once she was barred from taking assignations with him, the gossip began. I started covertly spreading rumors about Simonne, that she had inappropriate feelings for her patrons, being the first and easiest to tell as it had its roots in truth. But I was not content with that. No, I spread word that Simonne had been reprimanded for her poor enthusiasm with other patrons, which of course had no basis in fact. Over time, Simonne’s other patron began hearing of her scandals, and defecting to other adepts, myself included. 

I watched at the Ceres fête, when Simonne and Duc d’Imbert snuck off on their own, to couple like animals in the scullery no doubt. I was shocked that Simonne was continuing to see the Duc despite our Dowayne’s edict against it, but it would aid me in my plans significantly.

I kept a close eye on Simonne, always. I watched her on the rare occurrences when she had an assignation, and I saw how much more excited she was when she was to visit with the Lady Valais. I had no doubt that she was seeing the Duc covertly, and was quickly proven right. 

All that I needed to do then was send a missive to Dowayne Perrette, informing her of the illicit affair that was taking place under her own roof. 

There was no question about it, I had won. Simonne was abjured from our house, and my mother was finally avenged. I watched with glee as my marque climbed my back in painful inches, most of her patrons having found their way into my own bed by this time. So things went for many months, and I had come to believe that I would never hear her simpering name again. At The Longest Night, I coupled with the Lord Henri Melark, one of Simonne’s ex-patrons, and I reveled in my feeling of success.

Then came the spring. The snows thawed and melted, and Terre D’Ange became green again. And with the spring came word that Simonne had returned to the City, and not only that, but she had come with the Duc d’Imbert, and was granted an audience with the Queen and King themselves! 

I was beside myself with rage. All of my work, all of my pains, had they been for naught? Would Simonne succeed despite my efforts? And what would become of me if she did, how could I go on if she was happy? Word of Simonne’s return, as well as the bargain she struck with the royal couple spread through the Night Court like wild fire. Everyone was fascinated by the adepts who had chosen love over her duty. It reminded some of the Cassiline Knight who had made a similar choice many years earlier, “Cassiel’s Choice”, they called it. And some were now calling Simonne correct in her own right, saying that she had made “Naamah’s Choice,” and that she should be as a paradigm for other adepts, who wish to follow their own hearts. 

Nothing could have given me more impotent fury than this. Rather than being shamed for all time, as my mother had been for similar crimes, this lustful doxy was being held up, raised onto a pedestal, and revered. It was more than I could take. 

When I heard that her marque had been made, despite all odds, I watched as all my plans unraveled like a cheap tapestry before my very eyes. I felt myself grasping for ideas, ways to ruin her. My mind spun, and my blood ran hot. I would bide my time, as I had before, and this time I would not fail but destroy her forever.


	26. A Marque is Made

I was at the Marquist’s before he opened the next morning. I could not help it, I was so excited, and so ready to have my marque completed, and to no longer be anathema within the Night Court. He arrived and opened up his shop at little after 9 in the morning. I had scarcely slept, for excitement. 

I had not seen the marquist since long before I had left the City originally, and had not spoken to him about my custom marque yet, though he was of course aware of it, gossip does spread after all. So I was not terribly surprised when Master Covello told me that he already had several ideas for my marque. And he did indeed, have some five or six renderings for me to choose from. 

In the end, we chose features from each of the original drawings to come up with something which satisfied us both. The first half to three-quarters of my marque was already complete, of course, in the Heliotrope fashion. But Master Covello had extended the original design, embellishing it with swirls that came out from both sides as well as below. There were sharp, spiky flowers throughout the marque, which were a deep purple, and connected by green vines that spiraled and danced all across my back. The end result was something somewhat larger than a regular marque, but I am no regular adept, and Covello said that my marque should reflect that. 

“Green and purple for the colors of your past and future,” he explained, “that the spirals are to symbolize the travails that you’ve been through. The flowers are to remind you of love’s sharper edge, and the sacrifices you’ve made for it.”

My eyes spilled over with joyful tears as I saw what he had traced on my back in ink. It was beautiful and perfect. 

All together the process took about three hours. I laid on my stomach, feeling the marquist’s needle pierce my skin thousands of times. I held as still as I was able, I was resolved. There was nothing that could draw me away from his table until my marque was complete. When finally he was done, I stood and looked at myself in his full length mirror. I had never seen anything so beautiful before.

The vines spun delicately in all directions, and the flowers punctuated the sides and the center. I wept, I am not ashamed to admit it, when I saw it in full. The green was dark, and the purple vibrant. 

I went to Giles’ quarters at Court, and wasted no time in showing him my completed back.

“But, how can it be? I saw you not three days ago, and you said that the situation was hopeless!”

I told him the story of Lord Ian Lefever, and we tried to work out the mystery of his identity together. Giles, who knew most of the gentry of the City, was unfamiliar with his name and my description of him. Who could have had reason to track me down, a disgraced whore, and then why would they have gifted me so handsomely? Surely any patron who could afford to give such a gift could have afforded his choice of adept In the Night Court Proper, and yet he chose me. 

We could not agree on who my mysterious patron could have been, and so we put it aside for the time being. We had many other things to do in the meantime, Giles said that it was only meet that we announce our engagement properly before the Queen and King, that they might give their blessing. And, as I was no longer barred from the Night Court, I wished to see my friends. 

Giles kissed me quickly on the mouth, his lips full and soft. They were the only lips I ever wanted to kiss again. We parted, and went to run our errands. Giles, to request a royal audience, and I to become reacquainted with my sisters of many long months away from them.


	27. A Homecoming

My return home was a joyous one, as I was welcomed back into Heliotrope with open arms by my sisters. I was not granted audience with Dowayne Perrette, but was instead escorted to a small salon, where I was permitted to visit with Cassandra and Madeline for a time. 

There were hugs and tears all-around of course, with both girls remonstrating that I had not told them what Giles and I were about. 

“I could not!” I tried to explain to them, “We needed to act with the utmost secrecy. And even with all of that, we were caught anyways!”

They forgave me quickly enough, and we shared our many stories from our months apart. I told them all about La Serenissima, and how differently it smelled there. I told them all about the mountain ranges of Siovale, and how I had grown to love Chateau d’Imbert as my own home. 

They caught me up on all of their news as well, Cassandra had nearly finished her marque, and Madeline was almost half way done with hers. Madeline’s hair had grown considerably over the last seven months, while Cassandra had clipped hers short, in a new avant-guard style only being worn by the most fashionable peers of the realm. I teased her that she belonged in Dahlia House, and she protested amicably enough.  
I asked for news of Reneè, though both girls asserted that there was nothing much to tell. She had made her marque about two months earlier, and was living in a new chamber now, with other adepts who had also completed their vows, and had chosen to remain in Naamah’s Service. Madeline and Cassandra told me they didn’t see her much anymore, and were the happier for it. 

They told me that stories about me had spread through the Night Court, and that people were likening me to the Cassiline Knight, Joscelin Verreuil, who had renounced his vows to the Cassiline Brotherhood in the name of love. Such an act was called “Cassiel’s Choice,” and had scarce happened in our nation’s history. I knew his story of course, it was part of the same tale as Phèdre nó Delaunay. But Joscelin Verreuil had been a national hero, I couldn’t understand how anyone could find us comparable at all. 

Still, my sisters told me that, in whispers, what I had done was being referred to as “Naamah’s Choice, and that mayhap I would be similarly remembered. I was rightly dumbfounded as Madeline squealed excitedly about my “legacy”, but in truth, I couldn’t have cared less. I cared not for glory or acclaim, all that I wanted now was to be back at Chateau d’Imbert with Giles, as his wife. 

I went and visited with Christìanne as well. She embraced me warmly and told me how glad she was to see me, happy and hale. She admired the marquist’s work on my freshly limned back, and wanted to hear tell of all my adventures. She was greatly pleased to hear how active a role I had taken as the future Duchess d’Imbert, and happily accepted my invitation to come and visit us after the wedding. 

I had received word from Giles that our audience with the Queen and King was to take place that very afternoon, so it was with a reluctant heart that I left Heliotrope, and returned to my apartment on La Rue L’écharde de Fleurs. 

Once home, I showered and dressed for a royal audience as quickly as I was able. I put on a dress made of jade green silk from Chin. The dress wrapped around me, tying around my waist. It had a simple v-neckline, and was ruched all up the side. 

I was able afford a carriage up to the palace from Night’s Doorstep, for which I was heartily grateful. When I arrived, Giles was there to meet me and escort me inside. We entered the throne room again, and once more I was taken aback at its splendor. 

The royal couple were seated on their dais as before, with Amarante standing at the Queen’s side. But, unlike before, King Imriel now had a companion by his side as well, to my surprise, it was Lord Ian Lefever.  
His hair was in braids as it had been the night before, but gone were his rough homespun clothing. In its place, he was dressed in a deep blue doublet that matched the King’s. 

I dropped into a deep curtsy once I had approached the dais, and Giles bowed by my side. 

“Rise, Simonne nó Bouscevre, “said Queen Sidone.

I straightened myself, and looked imploringly up at them all. King Imriel quirked a smile, and inclined his head.

“I see you recognize my cousin, Mathieu Shahrizai.”

“My lord…I, yes I do.”

“Elua may care not for titles and politics, but those in places of power ought still to care about love, and follow his precept just the same as his other followers. If anyone in this kingdom knows about misbegotten romance, it is my Queen and I. We might not have been able to reinstate you to your house, but if we could make it somewhat easier for you to be with your true love, then we are happy to have assisted you in this way.”

Amarante stepped forward, and repeated the same words that Ian, I’m sorry Mathieu, had said to me the night before, “But let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love: let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.”

“We offer our support in your union, and we hope that you will wed here in the City, that we might be honored to attend your nuptials.”

We ecstatically agreed, and welcomed them to the event, which would be held just as soon as we could make the necessary arrangements. 

Giles and I returned to my tiny apartment, where I gave my notice and packed my belongings in short order. By the end of the evening, I was happily ensconced in Giles’ chambers at court as his fiancé. Never, had I imagined that I could be so happy. 

Giles and I made love that night, and I fell asleep with his arms wrapped tightly around me, his warm breath in my hair.


	28. Preparations

It took us only a few weeks to plan the wedding. There were not many to invite, just my mother, Christìanne, and a handful of adepts from Heliotrope. Giles had a few friends, peers of the realm of course, who were also invited. 

I went to Atelier Favrielle for my wedding dress, the couturiere which had sprung up in honor of Favrielle nó Eglantine, who was one of the most revered Eglantine adepts of all time. She was long deceased, of course, but she was remembered through her pupils who now ran the shop. Her attention to detail and exacting quest for perfection had been drummed into their heads, and no one could claim that they were not as skilled as their mentor had been. Normally a dress of this quality would have far exceeded what I could afford, but Christìanne had insisted on buying it for me as a wedding gift.   
]  
Claudius Pinon was the head couturiere at Atelier Favrielle, and he had me stripped within minutes of my arrival. I was standing on a box, much like I had at the Eglantine house nearly a year earlier. Claudius shook his head and clucked his tongue as he regarded me.

“A wedding dress? And on such short notice?”

I stood on my box wordlessly, shivering slightly as the air pricked my bare skin. Giving a deep sigh, he flipped a page on his sketch book and set to drawing. After just a few minutes, he showed me what he had drawn.

“We will take inspiration form the goddess of love, Epistrophia, from the Umaiyyat. She was the goddess of love and devotion. They say that she was borne of the sea, conceived from her father’s balls being thrown into the ocean, and she sprang forth from the foam on a scallop shell.”

The sketch was of a simple white sheathe dress, with a cowl neckline, that came together at the shoulders with long swathes of fabric, which hung like wings off the back. Epistrophia, Claudius explained, had been a winged goddess. I would have gold wire wrapped in my hair, and golden sandals on my feet. True to the Umaiyyat tradition, I would wear lapis jewelry, and I would go unveiled. 

Claudius said that my dress would be ready within the week, and that he would send word to Court when he needed me for a fitting. 

The ceremony would take place at the Temple of Star-Crossed Lovers, and Amarante had graciously offered to officiate. Food was ordered, and musicians were conscripted.   
I spent a good amount of time visiting with my mother. Our relationship had grown even stronger in the time since I’d returned to the City, she got on very well with Giles, and we made plans to come visit us in Siovale as soon as we were properly settled. 

Day by day, the time crept slowly forward, until at last the big day arrived. 

I woke the day of my wedding before the sun rose. Giles’ arm was draped over my body, holding me close against him. I wriggled out from under his arm and wrapped a sheet around my body. I walked across the room and sat in a chair, facing out towards the street. 

I watched at the denizens of Terre D’Ange walked by, completely unaware that today was to be the happiest day of my life. I sat until the sun was high in the sky overhead, and then I went and kissed Giles lightly on the cheek.

“Wake up my love, it would not due to sleep through your nuptials now, would it?”

A sleepy grin spread slowly across his face, and he blinked his eyes blearily until I finally came into focus. 

“Good morning my bride,” he took my by the hand and pulled me down so that I fell on top of him. I let out a delighted giggle, and felt his arms wrap around my waist, holding me fast. I sprinkled a smattering of kisses all over his face and neck, then began twisting and contorting until I was free. I rolled over so that I was lying next to him, and then I ran my fingers through his hair idly.

“You know how much I love you Giles?”

“I think I just might my dear. Your love for me has created something of a new fashion trend. All throughout the City, they are talking about ‘Naamah’s Choice,’ and what it truly means to follow Blessed Elua’s precept. I think it’s fair to say that you have turned the City on its head!”

“I never meant to do any such thing, I just couldn’t bear to have you anywhere but by my side, for the rest of my days.”

“I feel exactly the same my beloved. And rest easy, knowing that is just what shall happen. We will make our home in the City for half of the year, and the other half, you are all mine, back home in Siovale.”

“Nothing sounds better to me my love.”

And really, nothing did.


	29. A Fete to be Remembered

The reception was truly memorable. If you’ve never been to a D’Angeline wedding, then I’ll do my best to describe the celebration to you, for it was absolutely unlike anything I had ever experienced before. 

The Temple of Star-Crossed Lovers had been decorated in our honor, with red drapes to represent Naamah, and green for House d’Imbert. There were flowers wrapped around columns and hanging in garlands everywhere that I looked, heliotrope yes, but jasmine and dahlia as well, orchids and valerian. I was assured by Claudius that my dress was very authentic, and that I looked the very part of a goddess. 

As was traditional, Giles and I walked down the aisle together, hand in hand. Amarante stood at the end of our path, her hands held out to us in welcome. A harpist was in the corner, playing a soft, romantic tune. 

Unlike the Yeshuites, we do not have regular religious services, and so there were no pews in the Temple. Our guests stood, though there were not many of them. In the very front row was the Royal Family, and standing right behind them were my sisters, arms gripped in excitement, and tears already running down Madeline’s face. The music quieted as we approached the altar.

“Welcome,” Amarante began, “we are gathered here today, in the presence of friends and family, to forever unite Duc Giles d’Imbert and Simonne nó Bouscevre. 

It is only fitting that our ceremony today should take place in this temple, as Giles and Simonne have had to face more than their share of hardships, and tests to their love. Still, their devotion to one another has overcome all obstacles put before them, and no one here can doubt their commitment. 

Blessed Elua bade us to love as we will, and these two young people have done that despite all odds, and have fought to be together. I bless you both today in the names of Elua and his companions, may they watch over you and may your marriage be prosperous.”

One by one, a priest from each temple came forward, to offer us their blessings. 

First came a priest, from Elua’s Temple. He was dressed in blue robes, and wore no shoes upon his feet, “In Elua’s name, may you love each other until your last breath.”

Next came a priest from Azza’s Temple. He had on a tunic of saffron, with a crimson cloak, and his face was obscured by a bronze mask, “Azza guard you, and keep you from putting your pride before one another’s interests.”

A priestess of Kushiel came forward, wearing a black cloak that covered her entire body, and a bronze mask as well, “In Kushiel’s name, may you always find forgiveness in your hearts, may you never bear a grudge that stains your love beyond repair.”

A priest clad in grey robes, for Shemhazai, was the next to step forward, “Shemhazai guide you, and grant you wisdom to know your own hearts, may you never stop seeking the truth together.”

A young woman, a priestess no more than fifteen years old, walked forward next. She had on a brown robe, tied with a rope belt. She was there to represent Anael, “Anael watch over you always, and keep your love ever blossoming, always growing. May you continue to help one another grow, and change, and evolve as one.”

An old man, with his long grey hair tied back in a braid behind him came next. He had on the dark green vestments that proclaimed his devotion to Camael, if the sword he carried did not, “Camael grant that you always fight clean, and that your disagreements bring you closer together in the end.”

A priestess in sea-blue robes stepped up, signifying Eisheth, “May Eisheth bless you with a fruitful union, and may you heal the injuries on each other’s hearts, and treat one another kindly.”

Finally, Amarante came forward once more, to give us Naamah’s blessing, “May Naamah bless you and keep you, that the passion for one another always burn brightly in your hearts.”

There was no representative for Cassiel present, save for the Queen and King’s sentries, but they were not there to offer us any benedictions on his behalf.

“I understand that you have chosen to defer the lighting of a candle in Eisheth’s honor?” Amarante asked.

We glanced at each other out of the corner of our eyes, and nodded. Before we were ready to raise children, we needed to have a life and adventures of our own first. Our backs were to our guest, but I’m sure more than one eyebrow raised in surprise at this bucking of tradition. Well and good though, for we were nothing if not trend setters. 

“You may face one another.”

We did so, Giles taking my hands into his, and my eyes filling with tears already.

“Do you, Duc Giles d’Imbert, take Simonne nó Bouscevre to be your wife, to love, to trust, and to support though all things, in this life and in Terre D’Ange that lies beyond?”

“I do.”

As he said the words, Giles slid a small silver band around my fourth finger. I felt the cool metal slide up my finger, like an embrace.

“And do you, Simonne nó Bouscevre, take Duc Giles d’Imbert to be your husband, to love, to trust, and to support in all things, in this life and in Terre D’Ange that lies beyond?”

“I do,” I whispered with a smile, slipping an identical band onto Giles’ finger. 

We each drank joie from a small silver chalice, which symbolized our communion with the gods, and our commitment to one another. 

“Then, by the power invested in my by the Temple of Naamah, and in Blessed Elua’s name, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

I choked back something between a laugh and a sob, and Giles wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me close. I twined my arms about his neck, and we kissed passionately to the sounds of applause from everyone in attendance. 

Everyone, but one person that is.

I could hear the commotion at the entrance of the temple before she was even inside. It can’t be, I thought, there is no way that even she would try to ruin this day for me. Unfortunately, I was wrong.

“What madness is this?” a piercing voice cut through the applause. 

I turned to see Reneè, wearing her Heliotrope robes, walking briskly up the aisle. When she walked, she swayed just slightly on her feet, and I could tell that she was far from sober.  
“Can I be the only person of sound mind in this entire city? How is it possible that you all believe in this farce?”

“What farce are you talking about? Who are you, and why have you come?” Amarante’s calm voice questioned.

“This is the farce! All of this! This is the lie the Elua told, that you’ve all bought wholesale, this ‘Love as thou wilt’ nonsense. I am Reneè nó Heliotrope, daughter of Ellyn nó Bouscevre, and I have come to speak the truth you are all too stupid to see.”

“Are you addled girl?” A man standing some rows back, “what can you possibly mean by this blasphemy?” 

“What I mean is that the words ‘Blessed Elua’ spoke,” Reneè continued, her voice dripping with the venom she usually reserved for our more private conversations, “are pure drivel. He bade us to love, when love is nothing more than a transient thing, a word you use to make your mindless rutting seem something more meaningful.” 

Her voice was rising in volume the more excited she got, “I’ve made my marque, and without royal intervention, thank you very much. And here this…this abjured whore is allowed to marry with all the pomp of a peer of the realm? And with our Royal Family in attendance no less?”

At this point, several people began hissing and calling for Reneè’s silence. Amarante raised a hand to quiet the provoked crowd.

“You need not follow His teachings to the letter, but do you not feel any of Elua’s love in your heart child?”

Reneè laughed, a high pitched, keening laugh that made my blood run cold, “Have I felt the love of a mythical angel from centuries ago? Have you?”

“I feel his love and grace every day, and I try to live in a way that recognizes and extend the kindness I feel from him unto others always.”

“Then you are so much greater the fool than I.”

At this, our guests fell into a hushed silence. An adept, a girl of less than twenty, had called the High Priestess of Naamah a fool. Not in recorded memory have I heard of such insolence, and I could not imagine what kind of response she would get. 

After several moments of quiet, Amarante inclined her head, and spoke, “Reneè nó Heliotrope, as you have no true faith in Elua, and as you denounce his teachings, so does Naamah denounce you. You have made your marque, and so you cannot be declared anathema, but you are barred from ever seeking the sacrament of Naamah in her house from this day forward. Leave this place, and may Elua be merciful towards you.”

Reneè’s face fell, as she appeared to realize what she had done. She stumbled backwards slightly, and dropped to her knees, sobbing hysterically.

“I didn’t mean it,” she cried, her whole body given over to violent shuddering, “I feel the love of Elua! I profess it! I share it! I exalt in it!”

“Your true face has been shown Reneè. Leave, before you further shame yourself,” Amarante’s voice was cold and strong as steel.

Slowly, Reneè dragged herself back up to her feet, and she faltered finally back through the entrance from whence she had come.

A sea of whispers broke out through our guests as soon as she had exited, and Amarante clapped her hands three times to regain their attention.

“Friends, let us not allow one lost soul to ruin the happy occasion. And remember, let there be spaces in your togetherness and let the winds of the heavens dance between you. Love one another but make not a bond of love: let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls. This is one of the true mysteries of Elua.”

Giles and I looked back into each other’s eyes, “Shall we allow the winds of heaven to dance between us?” He asked me quietly.

“We shall dance with them,” I answered back happily, as I leaned in to kiss my husband once more.


	30. Epilogue: Home to Siovale

We remained in the City for the rest of the summer, only preparing to return to Siovale once the weather had cooled, but before the snows came. 

In the intervening months, Giles and I had attended many fêtes, at least two of them in our honor. We had indeed caused quite a sensation, and I had heard from Cassandra and Madeline that Heliotrope had nearly double the normal amount of new and transfer adepts this year.

“They all want to meet the love of their life,” Madeline chided me gently.

“Naamah’s Service is not the place one should go to find true love,” I responded, “and it wouldn’t do for them to be expelled, what can they possibly expect is going to happen?”

“Who knows?” Cassandra asked me with a shrug, “All I know is that my marque is nearly made, and I fully intend to remain within the house. Mayhap over time, things will change within Heliotrope. The Night Court has existed for hundreds of years, and we have to evolve sometime, right? Things cannot always stay the same.”

“No, no they cannot. I wish that I could help you to foster those changes Cassandra, but I feel my place is elsewhere, by my husband’s side, and far from this life.”

Cassandra hugged me then, and Madeline did too, as we promised to write letters to each other, and I promised to visit them as soon as I was back in the City again. 

I went back to the rooms I shared with Giles at court, and saw that all of our things were packed and were already in our coach, ready to depart. 

Giles opened the door for me, and I climbed in. He sat next to me and put his hand on my knee. We put our foreheads together, and he asked me, “Tell me Simonne, how do you feel?”

“I am yours, my love, and I am complete. My honor is restored, and I have the love of you and my friends. Never, in all my days, have I been happier.”

“Neither have I. Are you ready now, to return home?”

“I am.”

“Then, my dear, let’s be off.”

And with those words, we rode out of the City and towards Chateau d’Imbert, and the promise that tomorrow might bring even greater pleasures than yesterday held.


End file.
